


Racing Memories

by Hamliet



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Abandonment, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Class Issues, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Fun, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus, Minor Phasma/Hux, Mother-Son Relationship, Mystery, Redemption, Romance, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 83,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9481262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamliet/pseuds/Hamliet
Summary: When Rey arrives in a small beach town to live with the grandfather she's never known, she hopes she'll finally have the family she's always longed for. But when a mysterious reporter known as Kylo Ren publishes an article that endangers those Rey's begun to hold dear, she finds herself trying to unravel a tangled web that goes back three generations.





	1. Chapter 1

It's pretty clear that this adult, like most adults, has no idea what to do with her. Rey can only imagine what they told him when they called him: _your granddaughter's been living on her own, parents drove off one day when she was five, and by the way she stole a car._

Still, she waited for this grandfather she never existed—well, that's not technically true; she knew he had to exist, but she never bothered to imagine him—with her nose practically pressed against the glass. The coffee in that social worker's office tasted like toilet water, but Rey didn't care because finally, finally, long after she lost count of the days when she was about eight, someone was coming for her.

And then he was there, the glass door banging shut behind him, a grizzled man with a beard and a peculiar look in his eyes. "Nice to meet you, Rey," he said. "I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi." And he held his hand out to shake hers.

It wasn't the hug she wanted, but Rey would take it.

"Kind of a summer town," her grandfather says as he drives along a cliff-lined road. Rey peers down the green slopes to see azure water stirring below. Jakku was so arid; the idea of living on the beach blows her mind. "Things will be crazy with tourists."

"That sounds fun to me," Rey says eagerly.

He nods, and says nothing more. Rey clamps her mouth shut and crosses her arms. The car smells of pine air freshener and echoes with the sound of the tires on the road, because neither of them knows what to say.

A zillion questions shoot through Rey's mind. Her mother, her father, her grandmother—and what her grandfather likes to read—they told her he was a professor—whether he likes any sports, whether he likes animals, what his favorite color is.

But the stiff way he holds his shoulders tells Rey she might not want to ask just yet. "How—long have you lived here?" she questions.

"Since I was eight," he answers. "A friend of my parents' took me in after they died."

"Oh!" Rey's heart lifts, as if probably shouldn't after hearing he lost his parents so young, but hey— _we can relate_! "I'm sorry. That's rough. Did you like it there, with your friend?"

"I did," he confirms. "The time was short, but he taught me so much."

"Like what?" Rey asks.

"We'll discuss it later." He gives her an uneven smile, as if half of his lips refuse to obey.

For a brief moment, Rey fears he's having a stroke, but no, he keeps driving as if everything's fine. She studies her chipped fingernails. "What do you want me to call you? Grandpa? Grandfather? Or something else?"

His knuckles go white on the steering wheel. "Obi-Wan will do. For now."

"Oh." Rey deflates. She mouths the word _grandpa_. Tears prick her eyes. She'd been so excited to use it.

Obi-wan clears his throat. "Do you like music, Rey?"

Rey straightens. "Yes!"

"What kinds?"

"Um—all kinds, really."

"Great." He turns on a jazz station. Saxophones whine and squeal as they drive through what looks like a cute, if kitschy, little town. A building that almost looks like a palace rises on one street, and Rey gapes at it.

"Maz Kanata's bar," Obi-Wan tells her. "Too old for you."

"Of course," Rey says. She wonders again just how much the social worker told her grandfather. What if he thinks she's a delinquent?

A row of houses sprawl across the edge of the beach.

"Very old families live in those houses," Obi-Wan says. "The Organas, and the Damerons, and that house used t be the Naberries' but is now the Huxes."

Rey doesn't recognize any of the names, but she nods along.

"We live a little walk from the beach," Obi-Wan says as he turns down a gravelly path. The car bounces and Rey grips the side of her seat. "About five minutes."

"It's beautiful," Rey breathes, taking in the trees around them. Obi-Wan rolls down his window, and she inhales the salty scent.

He pulls up to a small ranch-style house that sits next to a twin. At the second house, a middle-aged man with a beard lifts his hand, lifts his hand in a wave to Obi-Wan.

"Our neighbors," Obi-Wan says. "Luke Skywalker. He lives with his father."

" _The_ Luke Skywalker?" Rey blurts out.

Obi-Wan raises his eyebrows. "You've heard of him?"

"Of course! Who hasn't? He's done some amazing work as a journalist—he won a Pulitzer and everything!" For his coverage of the rebuilding of the new Republic. Although he hasn't written anything in years, according to what she's heard from Teedo, the bored editor of the Jakku school paper.

Obi-Wan chuckles. "Well, he spends his summers here, with his father."

"Who's his father?"

"No one whose name you'd recognize." Obi-wan emerges from the car, and Rey follows. He pulls her bag from his trunk.

"I'll get it," Rey says quickly.

"That's all?" the social worker had asked, befuddled, as if they couldn't believe Rey didn't want more keepsakes from her threadbare life. Obi-Wan now looks as if he feels similarly nonplussed.

"Okay," he says, allowing her to hoist the duffel bag over her shoulder. Luke Skywalker watches, and Rey freezes. She waves tentatively. _What did Obi-Wan tell him about me?_

_Did he tell him that I'm a car thief?_

Journalism was always something Rey was interested in, but never anything she had time for. She tried to join the school newspaper, but Unkar Plutt had about forty chores waiting for her every night, and so she had no time between classes and homework and Teedo would only accept well-written articles. She did get two published, submitted after working on them a tthe expense of her sleep and her grades, but they weren't much.

_But here, maybe…_

"It's not much," Obi-Wan says, gesturing to her room, small and covered in an aqua quilt. "Luke's sister helped decorate it."

"It's perfect," Rey says, hope blossoming.

* * *

"Your mother said to tell you that we are having dinner with the Damerons, and that is that, and having to start your internship early in the morning is not an excuse that will fly," reports Threepio, his mother's prim assistant, hands folded in front of him.

"I bet my father won't be here though, will he?" Ben shoots back as he kicks his suitcase. It's bad enough that they have to leave the city to come to Yavin every summer. It's a miracle he's been able to find a decent internship with Snoke and the First Order newspaper, even if it looks cheesy with its coffee mug slogan. But dinner with the Damerons and their insufferable son is an experience akin to getting his toenails ripped out one by one, as pleasantry after pleasantry will be hurled at him with the intent of dragging out some hideous gossip.

"Your father is set to arrive tonight, but yes, he will probably miss dinner," confirms Threepio. The man wears so much bronzer he almost looks yellow.

Ben has no idea why his parents even stay married if they only visit each other one weekend every month Well, except for summers, where they actually spend time together. Kind of. " _Just divorce him already,"_ he snapped at his mother last time his father missed their reunion weekend.

"I know it seems hard to believe, Ben," she responded with that look that meant she was trying hard to keep her cool. "But your father and I love each other, and this arrangement works for us and our work schedules."

Well, it doesn't work for Ben's schedule, but they never asked him, so.

"A half an hour," Threepio reminds him.

Ben flips him off, and the assistant gasps. "Ben Solo! Your mother will be appalled when she hears of this!"

"Pretend she doesn't flip the bird at least three times a day, sure, go for it," Ben calls after the old man. He wouldn't want to be a driver who cut his mother off. "Is my uncle coming?"

"No, he's staying in with his charge," Threepio's voice comes drifting back.

His charge. Ben's been forbidden from saying the truth: that, for whatever reason, the esteemed writer Luke Skywalker all but retired to take care of Darth Vader, an ex-cop whose life is straight out of every filmmaker in the gangster genre's dreams. At least from what he knows about it. His mother won't let him talk to the man, and Uncle Luke seldom brings it up in Ben's presence. How Uncle Luke developed such compassion for a man like that has never made sense to Ben.

As Ben arranges his laptop for the morning, he wonders if Uncle Luke had something to do with Snoke hiring him. He could always text, but… _nah_. He'll see his uncle eventually.

At any rate, it's good to be away from Coruscant. Ben hates that town with its shiny cars and pristine houses, the way the kids hurl insults and fists at anyone they feel threatened by, anyone they feel isn't up to snuff. Which often includes him.

_For someone whose uncle is so famous, I thought you'd get better than an 88 on that paper._

_I think your mom wouldn't be happy if she heard you were trying cigarettes. Think of what it'd do to her career!_ It was a cruel taunt from the blonde girl who liked to laugh and needle Ben with her faux-concern, fluffily wrapped around threats as her usual.

And usually, a fist to his stomach would accompany the taunts. And Ben would punch back, and he'd wind up in the principal's office, accused of starting another fight or of stealing the phone where the other kids would be recording everything. And Dad would talk to Mom about how worried he was about Ben. Not that he's really worried. If he really cared, he would come home more.

He makes it downstairs to meet Mom two minutes late. She crosses her arms.

"Don't even," he snaps.

"Would it kill you to be polite, Ben?"

"Possibly." He tosses his dark hair and scowls. He hates Poe Dameron.

And when he sees Poe again, he knows the kid hasn't changed much. Shirt perfectly tucked it, leather jacket, styled hair and a wide, easy smile. Ben can't imagine what it's be like to be that ready to smile, all the time.

"Hey, man," Poe says, shaking Ben's hand. "Good to see you."

 _Cut the bullshit._ Ben grunts in response.

"When is Bail coming, Leia?" Kes Dameron asks as he serves grilled chicken and summer squash, seasoned with Italian herbs. Ben hates to admit that it smells good. They sit around the table set up on the Damerons' deck, the ocean breeze calm this evening.

"In a few weeks," Leia answers as Shara Bey pours her a glass of wine. "How's school, Poe? Thinking about college yet?"

Poe nods. "I'd like to study aerospace engineering, actually. How about you, Ben?"

Ben grits his teeth. "Writing," he says without blinking. "Journalism." _Judge me for being impractical if you want._

Poe grins. "Cool. Runs in the family, I'd guess."

Ben stuffs a bite of chicken in his mouth.

"He's got an internship with the First Order. He starts tomorrow," Mom says with a smile.

 _She's not really proud of me._ The thought turns the squash to ash on his tongue.

Of course she isn't. She just wants to use Ben as a tool to compete with. Like all these rich families, competing to see who can be the most awesome.

"You wanna go down to the boardwalk?" Poe asks as they finish dinner. "Or do you want to sleep early? I have to walk my dog, Beebee-Ate."

"Poe's kind of a night owl," Shara Bey says.

Poe grimaces. "Parents," he mumbles.

Ben shrugs. Mom gives him a pointed glare as the sky deepens to gray, with a rosy ring around the horizon. "Fine."

"What kind of stories will you be working on?" Poe asks as they head over, the sand crunching beneath their shoes. It may be summer but Ben's still wearing Doc Martens.

"Probably just editing."

"Hey, we all have to start somewhere, right?" Poe grins.

"Hey, Ben," calls a sly voice behind him.

 _Oh, please no_. Ben turns around to see Armitage Hux beaming at him, beady eyes glittering with rage so dark Ben doubts a therapist could shine a light on it. "Heard you're interning too at the First Order."

"Too?" Ben echoes.

"You didn't think you were the only one who got an internship this summer, did you? And I don't even have my family's talent as a reason why," Hux continues as he brushes past.

"What a dick," Poe comments.

Ben glares after him. The lights of the boardwalk come closer.

It's not true. He's talented, all on his own.

Ben's knuckles throb in protest, and he unclenches them.

* * *

"C'mon, Finn," calls Nines, his brash coworker. "Try for a little more energy."

Finn rolls his eyes. Across from him, he sees the elderly owner of the ice cream store waving at him. Finn met Lor San Tekka just earlier that day, when the man wished him good luck at his first job. It's not much, but it is a job.

"Not shocked," snorted Phasma, the supervisor who towers over him even though she can't be much older in years. "Yavin's got a history of working with abandoned children."

"Real kind," snapped another boy, who introduced himself as Slip. Within an hour, it became clear that Finn was at least better at manning the game booth than Slip, and Phasma sent him home.

Guillt gnaws at Finn's stomach. He didn't want to alienate the one person who treated him with kindness. Well, the second person, if you count Lor San Tekka.

But he already doesn't like it here, despite the beach and the carefree atmosphere. Because the ice-cream-mustached, grinning kids always cry when their darts don't pierce the balloons. Except his social worker insisted it would be a good opportunity, and really, what other options does he have?

"If you switch out the darts for sharp ones except for when I give you the signal, I'll fire you," Phasma told him as she explained things just after noon. "Newbies don't get to decide who wins."

Even when there was an adorable girl with pigtails and a bright smile who gushed about how happy she was with her purple cotton candy, Phasma refused. Probably out of spite, Finn figures. Phasma's got to be heartless. How else could she force the grinning girl to lose?

And Nines wants him to be more enthusiastic recruiting people into this dumb trap. For once, Finn just wanted to make people happy, instead of living as a sad tale for his social worker to tell. He's sick of being pitied, and he's sick of the sight of him making people purse their lips and shake their heads.

"Oh, darts!" Finn hears a voice say, and his heart sinks. "You ever play?"

"Yeah. When I was like six." A tall boy wearing a black sweatshirt despite the heat scowls at the game booth, ignoring Finn.

"It's hard to win," says the boy beside him, a handsome Latino kid. They both look to be around Finn's age. Undoubtedly they have happier lives. They probably belong to those ancient families who populate the beach houses.

The emo boy nods. "I've never one."

"Oh. I've only won twice." The handsome boy smiles, but the emo boy looks as if he'd like to shoot a dart into the other boy's skull.

"Finn," hisses Nines. "Get going!"

"Want to play?" Finn asks, spreading a fake smile onto his face.

"Sure," says the handsome boy. A short-legged, fat Golden Retriever barks below him. "You want to, Ben? Maybe break your losing streak?"

Anyone could tell that the boy meant no harm by what he said, and yet the emo's eyes flash as if he just insulted the past three generations of his family.

Finn's eyes slide towards Nines, who took over for Phasma. He motions for the emo boy—Ben— to win and the kind one to lose.

Screw that. Finn can't resist jumbling the darts in his hand as he hands them over.

"Yes!" exults the other boy as his dart pierces the balloon. Nines narrows his eyes at Finn, and he shakes his head, feigning innocence.

"Shit," grumbles Ben.

"Hey, it's okay," says the other boy. "You'll do better next time."

"I swear this thing's rigged," he mutters, and Finn flinches as he grabs the white teddy bear prize and hands it over.

"Thanks," the boy says cheerfully. "Hey, I don't think I've seen you before. You new this summer?"

Finn nods. "Name's Finn."

"I'm Poe, Poe Dameron." Poe grins, and then yelps as his dog somehow manages to leap up and grab the teddy bear in her mouth. "Okay, whatever, Beebee. Guess it's yours."

Finn laughs. "She bite?"

"Not unless she doesn't like you." Poe winks. "You can pat her if you want."

Finn crouches, ignoring Nines as h scratches the dog behind her ears. She continues to tear at the stuffed animal.

"How are your parents doing, Ben?"

Finn cranes his neck up to see Lor San Tekka emerging to chat.

"They're—" Ben looks as if he's trying not to spit names. "Them."

"Them, huh?" asks Lor San Tekka, raising his eyebrows. "I heard your father—"

"I don't want to talk about my goddamn parents, old man."

Finn's jaw drops. He can't imagine ever talking to any of his foster parents or his teachers or social workers like that.

Judging from Poe's raised eyebrows, neither can he. "You should apologize!"

"It's fine, Poe Dameron," says Lor San Tekka, waving his hand. "He'll figure it out in time." And then he shuffles back into his shop.

"Why did you have to act like such an asshole?" Poe snarls.

"Why do you have to be so upset about it?" Ben snaps, folding his arms so that it almost looks as if he's huddling in on himself.

"It's nine," Nines says, coming up behind Finn. He grins at his own pun. "You can go. See you tomorrow?"

"One o'clock," Finn confirms, taking off his hat as Nines turns the lights off. He heads up the boardwalk, following the two bickering boys. The dog growls at Ben.

"Shut that stupid thing up!"

"Don't insult my dog!" Poe yells, and then there's a crack.

Finn springs forward to see Poe doubled over, blood pouring through his fingers, which cover his nose. "What the hell?"

"Who are you?" snarls Ben, but his gaze twitches.

"You just _hit_ him?"

"Go to hell!" And Ben takes off.

"Good riddance," Finn says aloud. He kneels down. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Poe's voice comes out garbled.

"Lor San Tekka's probably got ice packs—"

"No, I don't want him involved. Not worth it," Poe mumbles, blood still leaking down his arms.

"Do you need help at all?" Finn asks, starting to back away. He can take a hint.

"Wanna walk Beebee-Ate home?" Poe coughs. "I wanna make sure my nose stops bleeding. If you could take her leash—I live just a few minutes from here."

So he _is_ one of those rich beach kids Phasma warned him about. But not a rude one. "Sure," Finn says.

_Maybe it won't be a lonely summer after all._

* * *

"Sure," Obi-Wan says when Rey asks if she can take a walk. "Just don't be gone too long. And don't—get in any trouble."

Sounds like her social worker was honest after all. Rey grimaces. "I'll be back soon." She presses open the screen door, stepping outside into the sweet night air. Gravel crunches under her feet as she walks.

She can hear the crashing waves and draws closer to the ocean. Maybe later this week she can actually go in. Not that she knows how to swim.

Ahead, past the sand dunes, Rey spots the lights of the beach houses, and out at sea, if she squints, she can make out the lights from some boats. The guttural motor of a jet ski cuts through in the air.

She's used to heat, but not this sticky kind of warmth, the kind that makes her feel as if she's been stitched into her t-shirt and shorts. Rey kicks up some sand.

Something shuffles to her side. Rey freezes, her mind racing through all of the close encounters she had in Jakku. Unkar never bothered to buy her pepper spray, so she learned to defend herself.

Footsteps.

Someone rounds the sand dune and Rey kicks her leg out, colliding with something soft.

"Hey!" groans a boy's voice. "What the—"

"Who are you?" Rey demands, heart still pounding. She remembers grabbing the wheel, stomping on the gas pedal. And the sirens.

"Not someone who wants to attack you," ekes out the boy, pulling himself to his feet.

"Oh." Rey gulps. "Sorry."

"No problem; I'm sure my spleen will recover, or not." A cute black boy raises his eyebrows at her. "Name's Finn."

She hesitates. _You aren't mad at me?_ "I'm Rey."

"What're you doing outside at night if you're so skittish?"

"I'm not skittish!" Rey glares at him. "I just got here today."

"I'm new too," the boy says, shifting. The moon emerges from the clouds, and Rey squints. _Is that—_

"You're bleeding!"

"What?" Finn looks down at his hands. "No. Not my blood. My—this boy—got his in the nose."

"By you?" Rey asks sympathetically. She's been in enough fights; she knows how it goes.

"No, by a jerk." Finn rolls his eyes, wiping his hands on his black shirt. "I work at the boardwalk. Are you in that program too? For foster kids?"

"No," Rey says, blinking. "There's a program?"

"For summer jobs—"

"I used to be a foster kid, too," Rey blurts out.

"Really?" Finn's eyes light up.

 _I might really have a friend_ , Rey thinks. She nods.

"Used to, though?" he questions.

"My grandfather found me. Or they found him." She shrugs.

"Wow." A smile splits Finn's face. "That's great for you."

"Where are you staying?" she questions a she starts to head back up the path, away from the beach.

"Back towards town," Finn answers. "You been yet?"

She shakes her head. "I just got here today."

"Cool." Finn nods. "Well, maybe we can see it together some time."

Rey nods. "What's this program thing?" she asks, kicking a pebble on ahead.

"It's to get summer jobs for—" Finn starts, and then cuts himself off. "Oh, shit."

"What?" He stops, and Rey stops with him. A tall figure heads towards them.

"That's the guy who punched my—friend," Finn hisses.

"What?" Rey narrows her eyes. He looks as if he's a goth wannabe. "Really?"

Finn nods. "Think he's one of the wealthy older families—"

"What are you two up to?" the other boy's voice interrupts.

"I just took Poe home," Finn retorts, straightening his shoulders. Rey can see his hands trembling slightly. "You know, because of how you hit him."

"I'm—" The boy's eyes dart to Rey. Up close, he doesn't look like a hulking monster. Emo, sure but almost sensitive. Nothing like the bullies Rey had to fend off in Jakku. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he demands, brow furrowed as if he really can't understand why she might not like him.

 _Entitled prick_. "Did you really hit his friend?" Rey asks.

"I—he was—"

"I don't like bullies," Rey informs him. "Stay away from Finn and from—"

"Poe," Finn supplies.

The boy glowers at her. "Look, I don't even know who you are, so—"

"I'm Rey Kenobi," she says.

"Kenobi?" His eyes widen.

 _He must know my grandfather_! Rey shakes off the hope that burst through her. _He's a jerk_. "Don't punch my friends again."

"Pick better friends next time!" he yells as she grabs Finn's arm and drags them along. "You can do better than—"

"Do you even have friends?" Rey yells over her shoulder.

He sticks his middle finger up in the air and storms off. Finn covers his mouth. "According to Poe," Finn manages. "Ben doesn't. At least not in town."

 _Really?_ Rey hadn't meant it. She knows what it's like not to have friends. The idea that Finn, and maybe this Poe, too—her heart leaps. She looks back for Ben again, but he's already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey."

Finn squints through the glaring sun. A middle-aged woman, pretty with dark hair, smiles at him, somewhat awkward but still friendly. "How's it going?"

The smell of sunscreen permeates the air as Finn glances nervously at Phasma, who's helping three small boys who look to be triplets. Their father seems to have more energy than his kids and keeps wanting to play—and lose—to his kids again and again and again. Maybe his strategy is to wear Phasma down until she eventually lets him—or one of the triplets—win.

"Nah, it's okay," the woman says. "You can talk now. She can handle it." She sticks her hand out. "I'm Jyn Erso."

"Oh!" Finn hadn't expected to meet this lady. "You run the nonprofit."

"Yep." Jyn nods, combing her hair back from her face. "Wanna take a walk? Your boss knew I was going to come by and steal you for a half hour today. Right Phasma?" she calls.

Phasma gives a less-than-enthusiastic thumbs-up.

"Great," Jyn says brightly. "Let's walk." She folds her arms as if talking isn't something she's particularly skilled at. "I usually try to meet all our participants within their first week, find out how it's going and such." Her voice is higher pitched than Finn expected from the emails he received from her and that one picture he saw.

Two kids run by in bathing suits, their mother yelling at them to slow down. Finn smirks. "It's going well."

"Really? Because Starkiller Games are new partners this year. We've never placed a kid with them before, so we just want to make sure—"

 _It's not okay; they're making me cheat people and I feel horrible about it!_ But Jyn lives in this town, doesn't she? She may already know or suspect. It's not as if Finn's ever been to a summer town like this before; maybe it's the norm and he's only making a big deal out of it because of his tendencies to overthink.

"They're fine," Finn hears himself say.

"Okay then." Jyn nods, dropping onto a bench. She squints as she considers him. "What are you hoping to get out of this experience, Finn?"

Finn eases himself down, careful to avoid a splatter of melted green ice cream. "Um—any experience will help, I think, and once I go back to my foster mother's home for school, I can concentrate on trying to get into a decent university—it'll look good on my applications—" Dammit, he's really blowing this.

"Cool," Jyn says. "I understand."

"And it's good to have something to do during the summers," Finn adds. "Instead of just waiting to move or studying to get ahead. Not that I'm not studying," he adds hastily, even though he's not. Shame curdles in his stomach. _You're lying to her?_

Jyn cocks her head. "How long have you been in your current foster home?"

"Just since the fall," Finn admits. "I moved around a lot."

She nods. "I see. Do you know what you want to study?"

Finn blinks. "I'm—not sure yet."

"You'll figure it out," Jyn assures him. "You've got time. I didn't have a major declared until the end of my sophomore year. Plus I started college a bit late, so."

"Late?" Finn echoes.

"I took a few gap years," Jyn clarifies. "And then I still didn't know what I wanted to do, but it all worked out in the end."

 _It all worked out in the end…_ Finn can only hope those words will be true about his own life, and yet he doubts it. "How long have you been working for this nonprofit?" he questions.

"Oh, years. My husband volunteered for it when he was younger, doing paperwork and all."

Finn can't help but ask. "So did you benefit from it?"

"Yeah." Jyn smiles.

"You were a foster kid?" He knows he's pressing it now.

Jyn hesitates. "I was a runaway." She wipes sweat off her brow. "And while that's a story I'd love to tell you—really—it's for some other time. My husband will be upset if I don't visit him for lunch like I promised." She reaches her hand out. "Nice to meet you, Finn. If you have concerns, here's my card; feel free to contact me."

He nods, getting to his feet. Seagulls swoop overhead, calling to each other.

"Hey, Finn!" calls a familiar voice.

Finn jumps, turning to see Poe, wearing an orange bathing suit. Two black eyes sprout, and his nose swells. "Poe!"

"I know, I know," Poe jokes. "It'd be fun to say 'you should see the other guy' but nothing really happened to him." He rolls his eyes.

Finn snorts. "I gotta get back to work, unfortunately."

"No worries. I'll walk with you." Poe grins. "I'm on my lunch break."

"You're working too?"

"Lifeguard." Poe puffs his chest out. "There's a storm out at sea, so we're keeping an eye out for rip tides." He blows his breath out. "I have to see that idiot this weekend. His mom's hosting a barbecue."

"Yikes," Finn says. "Good luck, man. That's rough."

"Where are you staying?" Poe asks.

"In town. At the—" Finn clears his throat. "At Maz Kanata's."

"Cool." Poe grins. "Can you get access to beer?"

Finn shakes his head. "As a guest, I don't want to push things."

"Fair enough. She's a cool old lady."

Eccentric, maybe. Finn has yet to see _cool_ , but who knows.

"What time do you get off work?" Poe wants to know.

"Today? Five."

"Do you like video games?" Poe asks. "If you want to come over—I'm kind of looking for someone to play with—"

"Hell yes," Finn says immediately. He's never played a video game in his life, but he thinks he can figure it out. And even if he makes a fool of himself, somehow he suspects Poe might be his friend anyways.

* * *

"Decent work today, Hux," Snoke says as he examines the article Hux proofread. "However, by the end of the week, I don't want to still feel the need to check the articles you've already proofread. Do you understand?"

Hux flinches. Ben fights a smirk. The air conditioning must be cranked all the way up; it can barely be sixty degrees in here.

"Yes, sir," Hux says, his shoulder stiff and his face pointed at the beige tiled floor. A scowl riddles his face.

"You're dismissed," Snoke says. The sun shines through the diamond patterns of his office windows. The glass glints, encasing Snoke in a kind of light and slicing away the heavy black chair he sits in. "Now, Ben."

His heart pounds. What if Snoke only sent Hux out because Ben's work is worse? "Yes?"

"Good job," Snoke says with a nod.

 _Oh_. Ben blinks. "Thank you."

"Do you do any writing?"

Ben nods, his heart thumping wildly again. "I want to be a journalist."

"Like your uncle," Snoke muses, leaning forward with a gleam in his eyes.

"Well—" Ben swallows. "Yes." He can't resist asking. "Did you talk to him at all when you—"

"No. Luke Skywalker doesn't hold my esteem. I don't respect people who turn away from their potential," Snoke says, gaze steady on Ben's. "I took you on because of your grandfather."

"Bail Organa?"

"No, your biological grandfather." Snoke huffs.

Ben doesn't understand. Dad's parents died young, and Mom says Anakin Skywalker died a long time ago as well. "Did you know him?"

"Yes," Snoke says. "I did. I also hired you because the sample you sent when you applied for the internship was impressive."

"Really?" Ben's parents have never read his work. They're too busy, Mom battling other senators over trade deals and what not, and Dad with his shipping business. The only time Mom's ever mentioned it is when she's talking to people like the Damerons and is forced to make it seem like her son isn't the loser she suspects he is.

He accused her of just that: thinking he was a loser, when he sent in his application. _"Why would you say that?" she cried out. "Ben, you are not a loser, and you never have been!"_

_"You're just riding on your parents' coattails," Mitaka told him at school. "That's the definition of a loser if I ever saw one." And he walked away, leaving Ben bleeding from the nose and hating every last cell in his stupid body. And that's when Ben jumped him, and then Ben got suspended._

On the bright side, Mitaka never bothered him again and now quakes in his presence, so there's that.

"Of course, student government being spendthrifts is hardly a scandal," Snoke adds.

His face burns. "It was just for a student paper."

"Well, if you keep up the good work," Snoke says. "Maybe you'll get to write an article for the First Order before you leave this summer. Just keep in mind that we're not a student paper, and this town isn't a high school." He raises his hand. "You can go."

"Thank you, sir," Ben manages, his mind still whirring. Just who was Anakin Skywalker? He pulls out his phone in the hallway, painted sea green, and taps the name. Everything that comes up is related to Luke Skywalker. He curses.

He grabs his artistically frayed bag and heads out into the late afternoon sun. Squinting, Ben almost walks right past a familiar gray sedan.

"Hey, kid!"

 _No_. Ben freezes.

"We got in so late I missed you last night!" Dad grabs him by the shoulder. Ben jumps back to avoid the obligatory hug. _Let's face it:_ Dad wants to avoid it too.

"How's it goin', Ben," says Chewie, his father's bearded and freakishly tall friend, who raises his arm.

Ben nods at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to pick you up from your first day. How'd it go?"

Pulling his bag closer to his side, Ben shrugs. "It was good."

"Good?" Dad nods, a grin trying and failing to materialize. "Great to hear."

 _You can't even fake a smile for me?_ Ben scowls. "I want to walk."

"Well, I want to talk," Dad retorts.

"Huh?" Ben's brow creases as Dad rolls his eyes.

"Look, your mom got a phone call from Shara Bey Dameron."

 _Shit!_ Ben curls his fist, hiding it under his long-sleeved black shirt. His knuckles still ache.

"Yeah, you know what this is about," Dad says with a curt nod. "Get in."

"I'll meet you back at your place, Han," Chewie says, clapping the top of the gray Chevy Camaro. Made in 1971, the fact that his father keeps driving the thing instead of retiring it already baffles Ben.

Ben slides inside, crossing his arms and dropping his head.

"Really, Ben?" Dad asks as the door clicks shut behind him. "Punching the kid? Again? And you can't claim bullying this time."

Ben's silent.

"What were you trying to do?"

"He was being—" Ben cuts himself off. "Who tattles at sixteen?"

"Ben, you broke his nose."

Ben swallows. "I didn't mean to."

"Why'd you hit him, Ben?" Dad's not backing down this time.

Ben could scream. "Like you never got in any fights at school? Or here? Or were you too busy with your life of crime as a high school dropout?"

Dad holds his finger out. "You better watch it, kid."

 _You're here for three minutes and you're already lecturing me?_ Ben slouches, avoiding the accusing finger that always seems to point directly at Ben's failings, while conveniently ignoring his father's own failings. _I'm at least planning on graduating on time. "_ He's a preppy know-it-all—"

Dad lets out his breath. "You know, Ben, you could do with being a little more like—"

"Like him?" Ben cuts his father off. _Of course._ His chest tightens, and the muscles holding his shoulders stiff feel as if they could snap at any second. "I should have known." He fumbles for the car handle and jumps out.

"Ben! Get back here!" His father groans as he launches himself out of the car. Ben's already halfway down the sidewalk before he feels his father's hand clamp down on his shoulder. "Don't run away from me when I'm talking to you!"

"Go adopt Poe Dameron," Ben retorts, glaring at his father's lined face, his graying hair.

"Ben, I misspoke. But your mother's told me that your teachers complained about you acting rude and Threepio—"

"I don't give a damn what that old idiot says!" Ben wrenches his arm away. "And it's not like you would know. You haven't been around to see any of it."

"I'm seeing _this_." Han's eyes burn. "Come on, Ben. Please."

The backs of Ben's eyes burn. Sweat dribbles down his spine. He takes a step back. "I'm walking home."

"Oh, come on, Ben, I want to—"

"What? Spend time with me? Only on your terms though, right?" Ben shakes his head and stalks off. He bumps into someone. "Sorry."

"Ben, the Damerons are coming this weekend for the barbecue—"

"I won't punch him!" Ben yells over his shoulder, refusing to give his father the satisfaction of turning around to see his face. "Happy now?"

"I'd like _you_ to happy!" Dad hollers, voice tired.

Ben hesitates. A part of his brain screams at him, ordering him to turn around, get back in that sweltering car and ride back in silence and in the thick knowledge that he pacified his father at least somewhat.

And then he remembers _you could do with being a little more like_ him, and he knows that what his father means isn't that he should be more like Poe Dameron, but that Ben should be more like him, his dad.

_In that case, I'm always going to disappoint you._

He stalks away.

* * *

"Rey, you have a friend here!" calls Obi-Wan.

Rey tosses the library book she got earlier in the day onto her bed. _The Master and Margarita_. Weird story with a talking cat. She scrambles out, because no one ever came to see her before.

"Hey!" Finn greets her, and Rey can't keep her smile off her face.

_I actually have a friend, and I haven't even been here for a full day yet._

"I was wondering if you wanted to come to Poe's place with me. We're playing video games," Finn says.

"Sure," Rey says. She spots a photograph on the kitchen wall, of what appears to be a younger Obi-Wan and two other people, a boy with long, tousled hair and a beautiful girl with curls.

"Poe Dameron?" asks Obi-Wan, emerging from the kitchen with his arms crossed and his brow furrowed, as if he minds. Well, it's not as if he's done anything to make Rey feel as if he'd want her to stay, aside from telling her where the library was and that she should go because the social worker told him Rey liked to read.

"Yes, sir," Finn answers.

"You're staying with Maz, aren't you?"

"Yes, he is," crows a voice. Rey jumps as an elderly woman coated in bronzer waddles in. "And the kids can have dinner with you and me and Luke another time, Obi-wan."

 _We had dinner plans?_ Rey's never had a family dinner in her life. She ate instant meals every single night.

"Obi-Wan says you're a writer," Maz says, reaching out and grasping Rey's wrist. She peers at her, glasses so thick Rey doesn't understand how she can even see through them. "You'll definitely have to talk to Luke."

"Hasn't he stopped reporting?" Rey asks. "It's been years—"

"Only six, but I'm sure he'd like to talk to another young writer." Maz releases Rey and adjusts her glasses. "You look hesitant."

Rey shrugs. "We'll see."

"Don't be intimidated."

Finn watches with his eyebrows raised. Rey snorts. Who wouldn't be intimidated, with the chance of Luke Skywalker looking over her junior-level reporting? "I'll see you later," she says quickly.

"Have fun, Rey." Obi-wan nods at her. Rey slips her flip-flops on and jogs out after Finn.

"How was work?" she asks awkwardly.

Finn shrugs. "It was work."

Rey frowns.

"So you're a writer?"

"Kind of. I never really had much time—my foster father expected me to clean everything, plus homework, so I wrote like two or three pieces in my spare time. Op-ed type stuff." Rey pushes a few strands of her hair that escaped her bun behind her ear.

"How's living with your grandfather?" Finn asks. The sun beats down on them, and sand covers the paved road that they turn onto, leaving the gravel behind.

Rey forces a smile. "It's great." A gray ache spreads through her chest, and she wants to claw it away. _It's been a day!_ Things will be fine. They have to be. This is what she's always dreamed of. This is her fairytale ending. "Do you ever hear from your parents?"

"No. I was abandoned at birth." Finn presses his lips together. "To be honest, I don't even really think about them. I'd rather just focus on getting good grades, getting the right experiences, and getting into a good college. _It's not going to define me_ and all that kind of stuff."

Rey smirks. "I wish I was like that." She remembers hearing many such speeches lobbed at her. The problem is that, unlike Finn, she never took them to heart. She clung to her ragdoll and the voice that belonged to a fast-fading face: " _I'll come back for you; I promise."_

"No, you don't," Finn says. "Your miracle actually happened."

A car whizzes by, a little too close. Rey jumps back.

Across the street, she spies a familiar gait and a black-clad figure. "Isn't that—"

"Great," groans Finn. "Let's ignore him, Rey."

Ben scowls at them as they hurry across the yellow lines, heading towards the houses. Rey can only imagine what he thinks of Finn, and of her even if she is a Kenobi. He can stuff his smug face into the sand and eat it, as far as she's concerned.

"Where are you off to?" He leans against one sand dune, plugging one ear of his headphones in.

Finn marches on, but Rey turns. "Poe Dameron's."

Ben says nothing, so Rey keeps walking. Her feet sink in the sand, and the sensation amazes Rey. She spots a small, white seashell and crouches, pulling it out. "How'd it get all the way up here?"

"Winter storms," Ben calls from behind her.

"I was asking Finn!" Rey hollers. Finn cringes.

Rey pockets the shell. "Poe's is the mauve one," Finn tells her, pointing. It's the closest house.

Behind them, Rey hears a screech that sounds like a wounded animal, although the buzz of a car driving by almost erases it. She whirls around to see Ben punching the sand, drilling his fist again and again into the dune. Her jaw drops.

"Is he five years old?" Finn whispers.

"Maybe," Rey answers as Ben finally slams his head against the dune, almost as if he's giving up. "Come on."

But it's too late. Ben drags his face up and sees both of them watching. His lips curl back in a snarl, and if looks could murder someone, Rey and Finn would have been spliced up and tossed into the depths of the ocean.

"Let's go," Finn ekes out, grasping Rey's arm and pulling her along.


	3. Chapter 3

Finn's phone buzzes, and he drags it out. The sun glints against it.

_You sure you can't make it?_

_I'm sure,_ Finn taps out. _Have fun with Rey, eat a lot of barbeque, and avoid the basket case._ Over the past few days, he's hung out with Poe and Rey after work. Yesterday Rey even came to visit, and even though Phasma forced Rey to lose again and again, Rey kept Finn company at the booth for several hours.

"Put your phone away!" Phasma barks. Finn stuffs the phone into his pockets. A small boy toddles over, a wide grin on his face as he points at the darts.

 _Screw it._ Finn doesn't have the heart to listen to Phasma's dull-dart prescription. He hands over the sharp ones. Hopefully the kid's dad helps him aim well.

"Finn," Phasma says sweetly, standing. "Aren't those the used, dull darts?"

The father glances over at Finn, eyes narrowing.

"No," Finn responds. "These are the right ones."

"Because I remember putting the good darts over on the left side of the cabinet," Phasma says, advancing. Her eyes flash.

The child's eyes gleam, and chocolate smears his chubby cheeks.

"Switched them," Finn says with a straight face. "Throw away, little guy."

The kid's second dart hits the target, and Finn claps for him. The father grins too, looking down at his son with the kind of pride Finn can only imagine, the kind of pride he suddenly, for the first time in years, finds himself wishing to see in someone else's gaze as they look at him.

 _Instead, I'm stuck here cheating people,_ Finn thinks as Phasma glowers at him. He pulls down a giant giraffe for the boy, who squeals in happiness.

"Thanks," the father says, hoisting the giraffe over one shoulder and the boy on his other hip.

"You don't have the authority to do that!" Phasma shouts the moment he's out of earshot. "I told you—"

"But he was so—"

"Honestly, if you weren't a part of Jyn Erso's nonprofit, I would fire you for that," Phasma tells him, towering over him. Her lips twitch as if she's enjoying the threat.

 _Because that's all it is,_ Finn realizes. _A threat_.

But he wishes it were true. _Go ahead,_ he thinks, watching her with his chest heaving. _Fire me. Fire me!_

Instead, she turns back to the darts. "Help me organize these."

"No." It comes out before Finn's had a chance to think.

 _Say you misspoke,_ Finn orders himself as Phasma turns around, mouth agape. _Apologize—_

 _No_. That word, again. Finn shakes his head. "I quit."

"Excuse me?" Phasma sets the tray down. "What did you just—"

"I _said_ , I quit," Finn ekes out.

"You want to go back to your stupid town and be a nobody? Maz Kanata won't keep you on if you don't have a job, and I think you'll be the first dropout your program's ever had—think of all the applicants who would have killed to get jobs like yours, and you're—"

"I won't cheat people," Finn manages. "I'm sorry." Except no, he's not really sorry. His hands tremble. "Goodbye, Phasma."

"Hey!" she screams after him. "Get back here, Finn!"

He breaks into a run.

"You can't just—"

Finn slams into something soft. It groans, and Finn stumbles back. "S-sorry," he stammers, his face burning.

"Give me back your hat at least!" Phasma appears in front of him, holding her palm out, face twisted in fury.

"Fine," Finn snaps, ripping it off his head and tossing it at her.

"You are the worst employee I've ever had, and I'll make sure Jyn knows—"

"You want me to tell her about you cheating all your customers?" Finn retorts.

"The hell is going on?" demands a gruff voice.

Finn peers up into the face of an older man dressed in a leather jacket and wearing an expression of disgust.

"Sorry," Finn whispers. Phasma rolls her eyes and storms back to the booth, cussing.

"How exactly does one cheat at darts?" the man demands.

"Sharp ones versus dull ones," Finn mutters. "She keeps two different baskets and decides who'll win or lose before they even play."

"For real?" snarls a bearded man who looks even taller than Phasma. "That explains why I always lost, Han! What a piece of—" He twists his bulky hands together, as if he's imagining wringing Phasma's neck.

Han swears. He glances at Finn. "You're the one who's staying with Maz Kanata."

Finn swallows. _Not for long_. "Um—"

"You're gonna need another job, kid," Han tells him. "Except Jyn's out of town this weekend. She told Leia she and Cassian were going upstate," he tells Chewie.

"I'll just go back to the city," Finn says quickly. _Forget this happened_. So much for padding his applications.

 _I_ quit _._

_I actually quit._

"Nah," Han says, eying him up and down. "Unless you want to leave, that is. Do you?"

"Huh?"

Han crosses his arms. "Do you want to leave, or do you want another job?"

"I don't even—I wouldn't know how to—" Finn stutters.

"Honestly, kids these days," Han complains. He turns to his friend and kicks a red cooler. "Here, Chewie. You take these drinks to the barbeque and tell Leia I'm on my way, okay? I'll take the kid to the bookstore."

"The bookstore?" Finn echoes. His head spins. What—how—

"Yeah, kid, you know how to read?"

"Of course I do!"

"Great, maybe you have me beat there, because my wife's still not sure I can." Han grimaces as Chewie heaves up the cooler. "You want to work at one? Because I know one that'll hire you. Some old friends of mine work there. They owe me a favor."

Chewie coughs to cover up a word that sounds an awful lot like "bullshit."

"Yeah, well, they're nice people, okay? And they can always use more help, especially during the season." He shakes his head. "You want to give it a shot, kid?"

 _What do you have to lose_? And yet a part of Finn itches to say _no thanks,_ he'll be okay, he'll just pack and head to the bus stop. And then he thinks of Maz's eyes, and he can almost hear her crinkly voice echoing: " _You have the eyes of a boy who wants to quit."_

Finn thinks of Rey and Poe. "Yeah," he says. "Let's give it a try."

* * *

"I wish Finn were here," Poe says glumly as he pops open a can of soda. He drops onto the cement steps.

Rey takes a swig of her own. "Same." Luke Skywalker walks past, and she sits up straighter. He smiles at her. She still hasn't been able to speak with him very much, but she wants to impress him. Although no matter what she does, she doesn't seem able to impress Obi-Wan.

"Has he asked you out?" Poe wants to know.

"What?" Rey turns to stare at Poe, who reddens slightly.

"I just thought—you and he—"

"I don't know," Rey says, her mind churning. "We've only known each other for like a week. He's nice, though." Dating was something out of the question back in Jakku. She was too busy, and besides, no guys wanted to date a girl in ripped jeans and stained t-shirts, especially when that girl could beat them up.

"He is," Poe says, too quickly. He traces the edges of his can.

 _Oh shit!_ "You like him," Rey blurts out.

"Not exactly—I mean—" Poe, usually so cool and confident, stutters. His cheeks turn crimson and he gulps some cola. "I—"

"Hey, I can see why you would," Rey tells him, leaning closer so he'll see she's not jealous. A grin breaks over her face. "He's cute, and funny, and sweet—"

"Exactly," Poe says. "So you should—"

"No," Rey cuts in, folding her arms over her knees. "I like the idea of you two together." Two people she actually likes, dating each other. It's a strange concept. _But both of them deserve it_. They're _good_ , and they don't look at her like just that brat from Jakku.

Poe coughs, gulping more soda. "You're pretty bold."

Rey scrunches her nose. "In Jakku, if you didn't speak up, you got steamrolled right over." If she saw that victory was possible, Rey went for it. People who hesitate suffer. She learned that lesson early, and hunger is a strong lesson, and one she'll never forget.

"Yikes," says Poe.

Rey taps her can. "Are you going to tell him?"

Poe winces. "We're both only here for the summer."

"I know." Rey peers out at the gathering of people, Leia laughing with her brother, Luke, and Obi-Wan chatting with a dark-skinned man Poe identified as Lando Calrissian. Most of them will be gone come fall. Rey shudders, a the cold strings of familiar loneliness creeping in, wrapping around her organs. _I don't want any of you to go._

They all see each other every summer, according to Poe, but how much time does that really give them to get to know one another?

"Poe!" calls his mother. "Will you help Ms. Organa with the chicken?"

He stands and mutters an excuse to Rey, who nods. Footsteps clunk behind her as she finishes off her soda. Rey cranes her neck back to see Ben, face flushed.

 _Oh no._ She leaps to her feet.

"Don't get up on my account," he says sarcastically, leaning against the wall like he's too cool for school. Except school isn't in session, and Rey doesn't give a rat's ass about anything aside from the fact that he was probably eavesdropping and overheard a private conversation.

"How long were you lurking back there?" she bursts out.

"It's my house!" But his eyes skitter away from hers.

 _Do Poe's parents know?_ Rey wonders. She steps closer to him as the smell of grilling chicken and hamburgers wafts under her nose. "You better not repeat—"

"I wouldn't," he cuts in, almost hurt that she would think that.

 _Oh_. Rey steps back. "Well, good." At the table, she spots Leia adding more chips to a pile, and the man they call Chewie sets down what looks like a bowl of guacamole, and several packs of beer.

He draws in a deep breath. "You know, I'm not a complete asshole."

Rey arches her brow. "When we met, you'd just punched my friend." _And the next time we met, you were punching sand._ An uncomfortable memory filters into Rey's mind: herself, curled in a fetal position, too sick to go to school and too dizzy to stand up and make it to the kitchen for food, tensing all her muscles because she couldn't scream, couldn't invite Unkar's scorn, even though she desperately wanted to.

He blows out his breath. "I'm sorry for that."

Rey swallows. "I'm not the person you need to apologize to."

Ben cocks his head, studying her. Rey grips her elbow. His lips, fuller than she expected, part slightly. "Fair enough."

 _Huh._ Rey wasn't expecting that. "So will you?"

He nods.

Rey doesn't know what to say. "Thanks."

"So about the other night," Ben says, clearing his throat. "Please don't—"

She remembers the wetness from drool and tears against the rough fabric of her pillow. "I wouldn't."

He nods and clenches his fists, as if he's expecting her to ask him more about it. She can't.

"Do you... want some food?"

Rey peers around for Poe. He's still at the grill. She should take a snapchat and send it to Finn. "Chips sound good."

He smiles. He actually smiles. And hell, it's awkward and a little lopsided, but not bad. He hardly looks like the monster she imagined him to be as he follows her to the table. Obi-Wan nods coldly at him as they pass. Rey dumps as much guacamole as she possibly can onto her plate.

Ben raises his eyebrows. "Would you like some chips with your guacamole?"

"Maybe." Rey grabs a few. "I'm not used to getting to have as much food as I want."

Ben frowns.

 _Maybe I shouldn't have said anything._ Rey swallows a bite. It's mildly spicy. She crunches into what must be a pepper.

"How's living with your grandfather?" Ben inquires, dabbing at his much smaller pile of guacamole.

"Good." Rey shrugs.

"I assume you get as much food as you want there."

 _Does he actually care?_ Rey nods, remembering him beating the sand. _Who are you, really, Ben?_

"He helped mentor my uncle, you know," Ben says. "Luke Skywalker."

"Really?" Rey's eyebrows fly up.

"Yeah." Ben nods. "He was a journalism teacher at a community college. Well, first he was a cop, and then he worked as a professor under the name Ben Kenobi." He crunches into some chips.

"I had no idea," Rey says, studying her grandfather as he laughs, hand on Luke's shoulder. "He didn't mention it."

"He's quiet. And doesn't like me much."

"Whose fault is that?" Rey retorts, cramming more chips and guacamole into her mouth.

Ben shrugs.

"Wait—Ben Kenobi? Are you—"

Ben ducks his head. "Yeah. He's close with my grandfather—Bail Organa—and my mom too." His eyes run across her face, as if he's trying to memorize her freckles. And why, Rey can't comprehend.

 _I'm surrounded by such successful people,_ Rey realizes, goosebumps pricking her arms. _Who are all connected._

And while she might share blood with one of them, Rey feels very much adrift. Except that it almost seems like Ben's trying to connect with her. _What the hell?_

_If he's the one I relate to, it probably means I'm so screwed._

"Hey," Poe says, jaw set as he marches over to them. Rey swallows the questions filling her mind. _Later_. "Where's your dad, Ben?"

He scowls. "No idea. Probably off on some grand adventure or anything that appealed to him remotely more than spending time… here." _With me,_ comes the unspoken words.

A chip scrapes at Rey's throat.

"You look as if you agree with him," Poe points out, an edge to his voice. "Like you'd rather be anywhere but here."

"You're not exactly making it pleasant for me."

"You punched—"

"Stop it!" Rey orders. Both of them look at her. "No fighting. Come on."

"Fine," Poe grumbles as his phone goes off. He pulls it out and grins. "Hey, Rey. Finn got a new job."

"Huh?" Rey blinks. "What about the boardwalk?"

"Apparently he's working at the Whills Bookshop now—he says he quit the boardwalk because they were cheating customers and Han Solo helped him get hired—" Poe shoves the phone under Rey's nose.

 _Han Solo? Ben's dad?_ Rey wonders. She turns to look at him.

"Figures," Ben says bitterly. He dumps the rest of his food into a trashcan. Rey winces. He wants to be here—he's just helping someone else, she wants to argue.

Except those sound awfully familiar to the arguments she made to herself, when she couldn't sleep and looked up at the stars, imagining herself in her father's arms, swimming in an ocean.

The ocean's here, and she's here, but here is nothing like her daydream.

"I've got to get going," Luke says as he heads over to them. "Good to see you, Ben." He nods at Rey. "I'll have to look at some of your writing sometime."

Rey can't keep her smile off her face. "Really?"

Ben's smile wavers.

"Sure." Luke rubs his forehead, looking exhausted. Ben stalks off. "Goodbye, nephew!" Luke calls after him.

 _What is his problem?_ Rey almost found herself liking Ben, when they were talking about her grandfather. But now he seems committed to the art of assholery again. "Is he okay?" she asks after Luke meanders away. "Ben. Not Luke."

"Who cares?" Poe runs his hand through his hair.

"If Luke and Leia are siblings," Rey says to Poe. "Why don't they have the same last name? Organa's clearly not her married name, if Han's name is Solo—"

"They were split up at birth, though I don't know why, and adopted," Poe reports. "At least Leia was. I think Luke's aunt and uncle raised him, or so I've heard."

"Really?" Luke's disappeared around the side of the house, but Rey catches sight of Leia laughing with Obi-Wan as she bites into a burger.

 _You didn't have your parents either?_ She never would have guessed.

_What were your lives like?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter will contain a flashback.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Twenty-five years ago** _

* * *

_My aunt and uncle are going to kill me._

But he's sick of spending his summers breaking his back, slaving away at the farm in nowhere Tatooine. He left a note explaining that he'll be back after the weekend.

Luke cringes as he steps off the bus. Tourists mill about, pressing in on every side. He expected crowds, but not like this. Luke stumbles, almost dropping his backpack. _Biggs, where are you?_ His friend said he'd meet Luke directly at the bus stop. With a sigh, Luke drops his bag onto the pavement and plops down on top of it, waiting.

The sun crawls below the treeline, and still Luke waits. Now annoyance starts to creep in.

"Artoo, come back here!"

Luke turns in the direction of the out-of-place British accent as a short, plump gray and white dog leaps at him. The blue collar around the animal's neck flashes in the weeping sunlight. A laugh bubbles from Luke's throat as the dog licks his face. At least _someone's_ glad to see him.

"Oh, my goodness! I do apologize, sir, Artoo's a bit—" A man stoops down, tugging at Artoo's leash. Artoo whimpers, straining, paws still on Luke's chest.

"No, it's fine," Luke ekes out. "You're a friendly fellow, aren't you?" He scratches the dog's ears, and Artoo pants happily. _At least someone's greeting me. And they're even happy about it._

"Artoo, we're supposed to be finding Leia! Bail won't be happy if we return without his daughter!"

 _They need to get going_. "Sorry," Luke apologizes, pushing Artoo away. "Go with your owner—is it Artoo?"

"It is," the man allows. "And I am Threepio."

"Luke Skywalker," Luke answers as Artoo presses towards him again. He rubs the dog's head.

"Oh. _Oh."_ Threepio covers his mouth, releasing Artoo's leash. The dog promptly knocks Luke back onto his rear. "Oh goodness gracious me, I am so sorry—Artoo, you naughty dog, you—"

"It's really okay," Luke protests, gaping up at the man. "Do you know my name?"

"What? Oh—no. No, I don't, Mr. Skywalker." Threepio peers down the street. Two little kids pounce on Artoo, their parents shrugging apologetically. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"My friend, but I don't know where he is. He was supposed to meet my bus at three," Luke admits, face flushing. _Now it seems like I'm a loser_. "Might as well wait for the next bus to get back to Tatooine."

"Tatooine? Oh, but there isn't another bus," Threepio says. "Not until next Sunday."

"What?" Luke's jaw drops.

"There are some rooms above in several local hotels," Threepio suggests.

"Thanks." Luke grimaces. "I don't have money for that."

"Oh dear." Threepio wrings his hands. The children scamper off, and he reaches down to pick up Artoo's leash again.

"Don't worry about me," Luke says glumly. The light dims to a dusky blue. "I'll figure something out." _Honestly, Biggs?_ So much for being friends. Next time Luke sees him, he'll give him an earful. Although it's nothing compared to the earful he'll get from Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. He can hear the peculiar pronunciation of _irreSPONsible_ right now.

"Well, I could ask my boss if he has a place for you to stay," Threepio muses.

"Really?" Luke gasps. If he can stay for the weekend after all, maybe it won't be a waste. Maybe he'll have some good memories to get him through the hours of work waiting at the farm, something fun to report when his teachers ask what he did over the summer when school starts again. For the first time ever.

"Senator Organa is a very kind man. Of course, if I don't find his daughter, I'm afraid I won't be able to—"

"How old is she?" Luke asks, scrambling to his feet. Maybe if he can get a place for tonight, he can find Biggs in the morning. "What does she look like?"

"She's fifteen," Threepio answers. "She wears her hair in two buns. Her name is Leia Organa."

 _My age._ Luke tries to shake off his curiosity. "Where does she like to hang out?" He hoists his bag up, pulse quickening. _We're gonna find her._ Artoo woofs as if he's pleased with Luke helping them out.

"The boardwalk, but no one saw her there—there was a very large and rowdy party on the beach last night; the police have been quite strict since—" Threepio mutters to himself as he pushes through the crowds. "But she wasn't involved; I'm sure of it, and they didn't find her there—she was reading on the beach, so please don't assume that of her. She's smarter than most teenagers in some ways—oh, why does she have to run off like this?"

"Maybe we can ask people if they've seen her?" Luke suggests. Shops surround them, along with three competing bars. "Do you think she'd be in one of these?"

"I do hope not," Threepio frets. "If Artoo and I take the one across the street, would you be able to check in here?"

"Of course," Luke agrees, reading the sign. _Mos Eisley Cantina_. "I'll meet you back out here in ten minutes?" He's desperate for some adventure. And since he's here until Sunday, he'll take anything that makes his bus ticket less of a waste of his meager allowance.

"Will do." Threepio nods and affords him a very tight smile. "Come along, Artoo."

The dog whines as Threepio pulls him away. Luke waves and ducks into the bar, which smells of sweet alcohol and sweat. A man with a hooked nose vomits in one corner, and two others seem to be engaged in a shouting match.

"Are you even old enough to drink?" demands the bar owner, marching up to him.

"Does it matter?" Luke asks.

"The police are cracking down, so yes, it does. Scram!"

"I'm just looking for someone," Luke tries again. "Leia Organa. Fifteen, hair in two buns?" Oh, good grief, he doesn't even know what color this Leia's hair is.

"Haven't seen her. Now get out." The barman crosses his arms over his barrel chest.

"But maybe one of your patrons has?" Luke asks. "I'm not going to drink; I just want to ask if—"

"You better listen to him, kid," says a voice to Luke's left. He whirls around to see a tall boy, handsome despite the sweat on his face. An even taller boy with more of a beard than Luke suspects he'll ever be able to grow in his entire life stands behind him. "He's not playing around."

 _Who do they think they are?_ Humiliation crawls out of Luke's chest. He's so sick of everyone just seeing him as he is: a boring farmer, an outsider, a naive child. "You don't look much older than me," he protests. "Don't call me _kid_."

"I have ID." The boy rolls his eyes.

Luke grits his teeth. "Well, have you seen Leia Organa? Hair in two buns, fifteen?"

"Does it seem like fifteen-year-olds are welcome here?" the boy demands. "Sorry, kid—er, what's your name?"

"Luke Skywalker." The band turns up the music, saxophones wailing. Uncle Owen would like this music.

"Okay, Luke Skywalker. I'm Han Solo. But you need to get out of here, and no, I haven't seen this Organa princess."

"Princess?" Luke echoes.

"The Organas are one of _those_ families," Han says, rolling his eyes. "Not in the least surprised that a rich girl would vanish at night to do God knows what with God knows whom."

Luke's nose crinkles, repulsed. "You shouldn't say stuff like that. You don't even know her."

Han laughs. "I say what I want. Now leave."

Scowling, Luke retreats. He hates being treated like an ignorant—

"Luke! Oh, good!" exclaims Threepio, darting across the street.

"Sorry," Luke says. "I couldn't get to ask—"

"Well, does it matter?" interrupts a voice from behind him. "I'm here. Not in any of the bars, but thanks for assuming that, Threepio."

Luke turns to see a short girl, thick brown hair done up in two glossy buns and draped in a flowing, short white dress. _She's beautiful_. "Leia Organa? I presume?"

"Yeah, and who are you?" She narrows her eyes.

"I'm—Luke Skywalker." He swallows.

"Well, nice to meet you." Leia nods. "Threepio says you need a place to stay; I'm sure my dad will work something out."

Artoo barks and she laughs, dropping to her knees to scratch around the dog's ears.

"Shall we leave?" Threepio asks, looking exhausted. Somehow Luke suspects that if his job is to look after Leia and keep her out of trouble, he has years of stress behind and ahead of him.

"Not so fast," interrupts an impossibly deep voice. Luke's spine stiffens, and dread seeps through him.

"What do you want?" demands Leia.

A tall man, dressed in a police uniform and with a face that looks like it's out of a horror film—burned and scarred—scowls at them. "I received a tip, Miss Organa. That you may have been involved in the ruckus on the beach the other night."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Leia insists. "I was at home. Threepio can tell you."

"She was indeed," Threepio confirms. He frowns.

 _Didn't Threepio say she was reading on the beach?_ Luke remembers. _How does one even read on the beach after dark?_

"Not good enough. Hand over your purse."

"For what?" Leia yelps.

"Officer Vader, I'm afraid I must protest!" Threepio cries. "She's not—"

"If she has nothing to hide, then she has nothing to fear," Officer Vader points out. The first stars appear overhead, and a very full moon gleams against the red and violet sky. "If you're carrying anything illegal—"

"I'm not high, and while I probably could fit a can or two in here, I assure you I don't have anything," Leia retorts.

"We shall see." He holds out his gloved hand. _Weird_. It's summer.

"I don't want you searching my purse," Leia snaps. Luke swallows.

"Do you have a warrant?" comes another voice.

 _Han_. Luke's mouth falls open.

"Stay out of this," orders Vader.

"I'm just saying, _Leia_ , that he can't search your purse without a warrant or probable cause." Han shrugs his shoulders.

Leia's eyes spark. A smile tugs at Luke's lips.

"Well then," Threepio says.

"Fine. But inform your father, Miss Organa, that I will not tolerate any more flouting of the law in this town. I don't care how powerful your family is."

Leia waits until his back is turned before she flips him off.

"Leia!" gasps Threepio.

"He wasn't looking for beer or drugs," Leia says. "What could those even prove? He was looking for these letters." She taps her purse.

"What?" yelps Threepio.

"They prove his corruption. Or, help the case Dad's building against him and other terrible cops," Leia insists.

Luke's impressed. _Fifteen, and you're already doing this kind of thing?_

"Threepio, if you'd be so kind as to deliver it to my father at his summer office," Leia says. "On Alderaan Street."

"I know where it is, but—" Threepio looks as if she just asked him to deliver a nuclear warhead.

"I'll take Luke to our home," Leia cuts in, grabbing Luke's arm. "Thanks, Threepio. And you." She looks to Han.

"Han Solo," he introduces himself, and then motions to his bearded friend. "This is Chewbacca. Chewie for short."

"Well, you know who I am. I appreciate it." Leia holds up her finger. "And not a word to anyone about what I just said, you hear?"

Han spreads his arms. "Does it look as if I'm the kind of guy who—"

"Yes," Leia cuts in. "For the right price. And don't count Vader out of paying it. He's not above anything." She jerks her head. "Come on, Luke."

Muttering, Threepio stalks down the street. Leia and Luke head in the other direction. After a few steps, Luke realizes Han's following.

"What do you want?"

"Is it a crime to head in the same direction?"

"No, but stalking's a crime," Leia snaps.

Han's face darkens, and Luke almost feels badly for him. "Well, it doesn't look as if the police will be coming to your aid anytime soon, princess."

"What did you just call me?" Leia rips her arm out of Luke's.

Han smirks. "I _said_ —"

Leia's face, however, is downright terrifying. Her eyes narrow and blacken. "I don't know what you think you're—"

Chewie gasps and points. Luke whirls around. His heart stops at what he sees.

"But you're going to leave right now—" Leia continues.

"Leia!" Luke grabs her arm.

"Not you, too!" Leia complains.

"Not that! Vader's heading back this way!" Luke hisses. He can see the cop, silhouetted by the street lights as he passes a couple canoodling on a bench.

"Shit," Leia breathes.

"What do we do?" Luke gasps.

"Run!" Han shouts it, and without thinking, Luke takes off, Leia and Chewie behind them. They careen down a side street.

"Shit!" Leia stumbles. Han grabs her arm.

Luke rounds the corner and skids to a stop. Horror pricks him like a million frozen needles. "It's a dead end!"

"Great job!" Leia snaps at Han.

"Well, sorry I don't run from cops often!"

"That's a lie and we both know it." Leia rushes over to a dumpster.

"You don't have the papers anymore, do you?" Luke calls, desperate. _I'm an accomplice!_ "So it won't be a—"

"Knowing Vader, he'll arrest us for running from him, and despite what this _I'm-so-cool_ guy says over here, he does not want to be caught by the police!" Leia rips open the top of the dumpster. A foul stench emerges as she hoists herself up, peering in.

Han pales.

"Get in." Leia jerks her hand.

"In there?" Luke squeaks, aghast.

"You want to call your parents and tell them you're in jail?"

Luke can only imagine Aunt Beru's face. He'd rather not imagine Uncle Owen's lecture. "I live with my aunt and uncle."

"Sorry," Leia says with a grimace. Chewie climbs in, groaning as he slips inside. "I really am, Luke. Is this your first time in Yavin?"

He nods. Han reluctantly climbs inside, coughing, and reaches up to pull Luke in. Leia jumps, and the lid closes over them.

The stench is so foul that it's all Luke can do not to gag. The dumpster's mostly empty, but he steps in something slimy and doesn't even want to think about it.

"Great idea, princess," Han ekes out. Chewie coughs.

"Someone had to save our skins," she responds. In spite of himself, Luke breaks into a smile.

"I'm either going to kill you or I'm starting to like you," Han grouses.

Leia snorts. Luke bites back a snort. The stench seems to be getting worse the longer they're inside. He covers his nose with his hands. Footsteps echo outside, and Luke can hear muffled voices arguing.

"I can't make out what they're saying," Luke whispers. His heart pounds. If they open the dumpster— _"Hello, Beru and Owen Lars? We found your nephew hiding from the cops in a garbage dumpster."_

Footsteps head away, and Chewie covers his mouth to silence a cough. Leia sighs.

"So what are those papers exactly?" Han chokes out. "And why was a cop looking for them?"

Leia's quiet for a moment, and all Luke can hear is their stilted breaths. "They're financial information," she answers. "That indicates Chief Palpatine—or at least, Krennic, who's known as one of his pals—is being paid off and—"

"You need proof for that?" Han scoffs. "Everyone knows that. No one cares, though, and good luck finding someone who would."

"Really?" Leia demands. "The state attorney might care. And Vader's after my father. He has some kind of grudge against him and I can't imagine why, but he's determined to set him up to take the fall. The papers show that; my father can trace them and protect himself—"

 _What beach incident?_ Luke wants to scream.

"Wasn't it him?" Han asks. "If you have these plans—"

"No," Leia answers. "It was other people. Friends. We weren't involved, actually, my father not at all—don't—"

"Relax, Princess, I believe you."

"Stop calling me that!"

"You like it."

"I do not!"

Luke groans, his head thunking back against the dumpster. _Ew!_

The top of the dumpster creaks, and all of them shut up. Luke's heart pounds. _This can't be—_

"All right, kids," comes a voice Luke's never heard before, kind and almost amused. "Out of the dumpster."

"Obi-Wan!" shrieks Leia.

* * *

"How did you get him to leave?" Leia gasps as she, Han, Luke, and Chewie all gather in Obi-Wan's living room. Obi-Wan invited them all to quickly rinse off in his bathroom, but even so, he lights about six different candles, all smelling of a different type of flower.

"You're right under my apartment," Obi-Wan says. "I simply told Vader that I was taking out my trash and hadn't seen anyone." He frowns at her. "You have to be more careful in the future."

"Obi-Wan used to be a cop," Leia tells Luke and Han. Han grimaces.

"Yes, I know about you," Obi-Wan tells him. "The key words here are 'used to be.' You have nothing to fear."

Still wary, Han eases himself onto the sofa, hair damp and clinging to his forehead. Leia turns away.

"And who are you?" Obi-Wan asks Luke.

"Luke Skywalker," says the boy, who's cute and gives off a sweet, innocent aura. "I was supposed to visit my friend Biggs—"

"Darklighter?" Chewie interrupts. "He was arrested earlier today for the beach incident. He'll be out tomorrow."

"Oh." Luke relaxes. Leia focuses on a red rose candle glowing behind her. She breathes in the scene, trying to push the putrid memory of the trash can away. It's worth it, if it helps her father. And Palpatine's an evil bastard. He can't be allowed to ruin so many lives, him and Krennic and Vader.

"You live with Beru and Owen?" Obi-Wan questions.

 _Huh?_ Leia blinks.

"Yeah," Luke says, combing his wet hair with his fingers. "I do. You know them?"

"I know them, yes." Obi-Wan smiles, leaning forward. "Somehow I suspect they don't know you're here."

 _Wow_. Although Leia shouldn't be so shocked. Obi-Wan knows everybody.

Luke drops his gaze. "They know now. I left a note."

Han whistles. "A runaway? Wouldn't have pegged you as the type."

Leia rolls her eyes. _Poor Luke._

"Your parents dead?" Han asks.

Luke nods, but Leia's jaw drops. "That's a terrible thing to—"

"Mine died when I was twelve. Car crash," Han says.

 _Oh_. Leia's mother died when she was that age, too. She was so beautiful, and everything Leia aspires to be. _Would she be proud of me, for smuggling those papers to Dad? Or scold me for risking myself?_

Dad will be proud of her. And her conscience wouldn't have stayed quiet if she'd ignored Cassian Andor's request. That's not who Leia is. When she sees something that is wrong, she has to try to fix it. She has to.

"Just for the weekend," Luke protests. He peers at the towering bookshelf, simply carved but massive, every inch stuffed with books. "Are you related to Ben Kenobi?"

"I am Ben Kenobi, or should I say, Ben Kenobi is me," Obi-Wan answers. "It's my pen name. Beru and Owen are old friends of mine."

"No way!" Luke exclaims. "I'm a huge fan of yours, sir—I want to be a journalist, just like you."

"You're a fan of mine, hm? I haven't even accomplished much," Obi-Wan says with a smile.

"Yes, you have," Leia insists. "Your work on the presidential scandal was enough to win you an award and it's the reason that university wants you to teach there." Obi-Wan's her second hero, after her father.

Han raises his eyebrows as if he's impressed.

Obi-Wan clears his throat. "I'm leaving at the end of the summer, as your father's told you."

She nods. Try as she might, Leia can't picture summer here at Yavin without Obi-Wan. He's always been here, almost like an uncle to chase her through the water, give her chocolate when her father's not looking, and since her mother's death, regale her with stories about her life. A lump grows in Leia's throat.

"I can call Beru and Owen and see if you can spend more time here," Obi-Wan says. "Should you want to stay with me for a few weeks, and help me edit my latest book, you'd be welcome to."

"Really?" Luke leaps to his feet. Shock spreads through Leia, but the good kind of shock, the kind that makes you dizzy with the mere idea. Because for all of Yavin's perks, Leia's lacking some close friends her age.

"We'll see," Obi-Wan amends. "We used to be close friends," he adds, staring at a white lily candle.

"Did you know my parents?" Luke blurts out.

"Yes, and what happened was truly tragic." Obi-Wan presses his lips together.

 _What did happen?_ Leia wonders. She looks at the blonde boy and sees someone who wonders, someone whom she feels a strange understanding with. And he didn't have to help. Neither Luke, nor Han, nor Chewie did. And still they helped her. Leia's heart soars. _People_ are _good at heart._

"That's a story for another time," Obi-Wan concludes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the present next time...


	5. Chapter 5

"Hux, someone with your experience shouldn't be missing these kind of punctuation errors. It's enough to make me wonder if you got someone else to write that article you applied with for you. I don't think you want me taking this up with your father, so do it again." Snoke slams a stack of papers down at Hux's desk. The redhead jumps. face pale as milk.

Ben busies himself at his computer, shoulders hunched. Snoke stalls in front of his desk, dropping his arm onto the wood. Ben's heart pounds. "How was your weekend, Ben?"

 _Huh?_ Ben lifts his head. "It was—fine." He thinks of Rey, and the few minutes he got to talk to her. _Why, oh why did I have to punch Poe that night?_ If only she didn't see him as a complete bully. She's pretty, with freckles standing out against creamy skin and eyes the color of earth in the spring, and an easy smile, and she's easy to talk to, and she's funny.

 _I can fix it_ , Ben tells himself. _I know I can._

"No more fights with your father?" Snoke prompts.

"What?" Ben blurts out. _Oops_. "I mean—" He can feel Hux's gaze boring into his shoulders.

"I overheard you two last week, Ben. You weren't exactly quiet." A long-fingered hand strokes Snoke's chin.

"I'm sorry, sir," Ben says, stiffening his spine. "It won't happen again."

Snoke shakes his head. "You shouldn't worry about it, Ben."

 _Easy for you to say._ Instantly Ben wants to deck himself. How can he think such disrespectful things to a man who's shown him nothing but kindness?

"I'm sure your father will come around. He'll learn to be proud of you. You're doing such great work here. I'm sure he will be."

 _What?_ A lump grows in Ben's throat. _Oh, for God's sake, this is ridiculous_! He nods. And given what Snoke just said to Hux, it has to be true. He _is_ doing great work.

"And at least you got to spend time with him this weekend," Snoke adds, picking up a pen and twisting it around between his fingers. "At your mother's annual barbecue. I heard from Lando Calrissian that it was quite fun, with volleyball and lots of laughs."

Ben's mood darkens like the thunderclouds brewing outside. "Yes, well, my father didn't show up until the last hour."

"Really?" Snoke's brows, resting on top a face that's clearly been scarred, swoop together. According to Mom no one knows precisely how Snoke's face got scarred, although the rumor is that it's from reporting in a war zone. Which would fit with what Ben knows about Snoke's character. He doesn't hold back, he's brave, and he's determined. He'd probably dive into a hail of bullets for a story that could change the globe. "Why not?"

"He was helping a new kid, Finn, one of Jyn Erso's nonprofit scholarship recipients, get a new job." Ben clutches his knees so tightly they feel as if the cap is going to pop off.

"Really?" Snoke purses his lips. "If he squandered his first one, getting him a second one surely isn't going to work out terribly well."

" _Exactly_ ," Ben says, hot anger flaming up inside of him again.

"Kids your age need to learn to deal with the consequences of their actions," Snoke continues.

 _I'm not a kid! I'm sixteen._ But Ben bites his words back. "I agree, sir." With the consequences part, at least. "Phasma's been left in the lurch and—"

"She'll be able to handle it, I'm sure," Snoke cuts in. "You know that I own those booths."

Ben nods, even though he didn't.

"We'll see. Partnering with that nonprofit may be more trouble than it's worth. Especially considering that Jyn Erso runs it, I had reservations, but especially now." Snoke shakes his head.

"What do you mean, _especially considering that Jyn Erso runs it?"_ Ben questions. He's always liked Jyn. She's kind of brash, but a good friend of his mother's, and funny.

"You can ask your mom, I'm sure," Snoke says lightly.

 _No way._ Ben scowls and slumps in his seat. If he said Snoke implied anything negative about Jyn, Mom would lose it. She's fiercely protective of her friends.

"Keep working," Snoke instructs, rapping the desk as he marches off. Ben turns to see Hux grinning.

"What have you got to smile about?" Ben demands, hoping red isn't bleeding into his face as much as the heat swarming his cheeks tells him it is.

Hux shrugs, taking a pen to the stack of papers.

An uncomfortable sensation grabs hold of Ben's stomach, burning and pricking. He shakes it off. _Back to work._

* * *

"I'm not disappointed," Maz said to Finn when he left that morning. "Sometimes, it's wise to quit things. We just need wisdom to know why we're quitting—if it's the right thing to do, or because we're afraid of the right thing to do."

Her words ring in Finn's mind as he unboxes a pile of used books, some of which appear to be very old, their covers hanging by a thread. The store has only a few small windows, casting it in a dusky light. It's narrow, with tall ceilings and ladders to reach the top shelves. Two leather armchairs sit in the back, and Finn suspects that by the end of the day, they'll look awfully inviting. The air conditioning keeps the shop cool, and the smell of old paper makes Finn almost feel as if he's back in school.

"I'll fix those," Baze Malbus, one of the bookstore owners, grunts from behind him.

Finn hands the copy of _Othello_ over. He picks up the next book and frowns. "Hey, this isn't even in English."

"There are stories written in all sorts of languages," answers Baze's husband, Chirrut Îmwe. At least Finn thinks he's his husband, though they're not wearing rings. "I can't even read English." His hand rests on the edge of the counter, carved to look almost as if it belongs in a gothic fantasy game. His eyes focus just to Finn's left.

"This one's Russian," Baze says, slapping the book down on the counter. Chirrut traces the cover's engraved lettering with his finger.

The bell jingles, and Finn leaps to his feet.

"Easy," Chirrut says to him. "We're not going to fire you if you're a little slow."

"Good to know," answers Jyn before Finn can even open his mouth.

"Hey, Jyn," Baze says from where he's crouched, waving his hand.

"Hey yourself," she responds, gaze focusing on Finn, who gulps. "Don't look so worried. Han called Cassian last night. You should have told me that place was run so—"

"Kid was scared," Baze says, long, scraggly hair hanging over his face. Finn wants to contradict him, but he can't.

"Well, that's all right," Jyn says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Don't look now, Jyn, but look who decided to leave his home," Baze says, gesturing towards the window, where Luke Skywalker walks, arm wrapped with an older gentleman, who stumbles more than walks. His face is scarred horrifically, making it impossible for Finn to tell how old he is.

Chirrut groans.

Finn frowns. Chirrut can't even see, so how does he know who's there?

"I don't need to see to understand whom Baze is talking about," Chirrut tells Finn, who jumps. _How did you know?_ "Most people wonder that."

"Please tell me you aren't reading my mind," Finn squeaks.

"The only one who can read your mind is you, and probably not even that well," Baze grouses, hauling himself up with a groan.

"He's feeling particularly old today," Chirrut comments.

"Shut up," Baze groans.

Jyn shakes her head. "I wish Luke wouldn't take that man past here. Every time I see him I think about how I'd like to punch him in the face."

"Jyn's feeling particularly like a teenager today," Chirrut remarks, settling onto a stool.

Jyn throws her hands in the air, and Finn can't keep the grin off his face. "Good luck with these two, Finn. Rest assured, if it's honesty you're looking for, you won't find two people more honest than them."

 _I don't know what I'm looking for,_ Finn thinks. "Who's the scarred man?"

"They called him Darth Vader," Jyn says, peering after him as she absently taps the small bun twisted behind her head. "He's not a particularly wonderful human being."

"If you want to organize the old newspapers," Chirrut suggests. "You can read all about it."

"You have old newspapers?" _Is this a bookstore or a library?_

"You okay, Jyn?" Baze inquires, and Finn sees that she's paled.

"Yeah," she says, heading to the door. "I'm fine."

"Can I sort the newspapers?" Finn asks.

Baze smirks and leads him to the corner of the store.

* * *

"You have talent," Luke comments as he scans Rey's old articles.

"Really?" She shifts on the edge of the old sofa, catching Obi-Wan watching her, with a soft smile on his face. Rey wraps her arms around the old blue throw pillow, resting her chin on it.

"You do," Luke confirms, stirring his tea. "You should look into the school paper here—Obi-Wan won't keep you from it."

"I'd encourage you to try it," Obi-Wan says, and Rey's heart leaps. _Maybe you don't hate me._

Although he still hasn't told her a single thing about her mother.

"Ben Solo's doing an internship with the First Order paper, right?" Rey asks. "He offered to read my work, too."

Luke frowns. "My nephew's a talented writer as well."

From his tone of voice, Rey's guessing that Luke's witnessed some of Ben's bratty behavior. She fiddles with the fraying edges of her jean shorts.

Obi-Wan grunts. "He'd be much better off spending the summer practice-writing articles than doing this internship, though. He may think Snoke's helping him, but that old bastard's probably just got him collecting coffee orders."

"He told Leia he's editing," Luke says.

"Huh." Obi-Wan rubs his chin. "I don't trust that Snoke."

"Neither do I," Luke agrees, putting down his empty mug of tea. "But he's a respected member of the community."

"So was Vader, once." Obi-Wan rises, holding his hand out for the mug.

Luke frowns, a haunted look crossing his eyes. "Yes."

"Did people stare earlier today, when you went out?"

"A few," Luke admits. "Not many. Jyn Erso and her crew won't make a scene, and Leia likes to pretend he doesn't exist."

 _Who is this Vader?_ "What did he do?" Rey asks out loud. Because she remembers what it feels like to be looked at as if your very existence is an inconvenience, to have teachers and classmates and moms with three healthy, chubby children looking at you as a reminder of what— _horror of horrors_ —you could be: a scrawny child, prone to getting in fistfights and without a college fund.

And the shame at things she couldn't help—even the memory if it slices at her.

"He is an old man sad at everything he lost," Obi-Wan responds. "Through his own doings, I might add."

Luke presses his lips together. "There's more to him than that, Obi-Wan."

"There was," Obi-Wan allows. "We were good friends. He might as well have been my little brother."

"There's still more to him," Luke says. "He just doesn't show it very much, and only a few people will give him the chance to make things right."

Rey doesn't understand. "How long have you two lived next to each other?"

"Almost your entire life," Obi-Wan tells her, reaching out to touch Rey's head. "But you don't have to like your neighbors. Or even converse that much."

"But you and Luke like each other," Rey points out. _And he lives with this man, so why doesn't it bother him?_

"Obi-Wan was like my father," Luke says. "When I was in high school, that is. You don't have to agree with every decision your family makes to love them, and even to like them, sometimes."

"I wouldn't know," Rey responds, and Obi-Wan looks ashen. Luke swallows.

"Well," Luke says, looking at his surrogate father. "I think you'll get to find out."

 _Will I, though?_ Rey wonders. Because even though she has a family, she still feels lost.

"And as for Obi-Wan," Luke adds. "I understand where he's coming from. Vader understands, as well."

Obi-Wan grunts.

"That's what repentance is, after all," Luke says, as he rises. "It's about you realizing you've done something wrong, and listening to those you've hurt, even if they don't want to make amends. And some offenses are too grave to ever expect reconciliation, and you can't judge someone else for making a different choice."

"You are wise, Luke," Obi-Wan allows, cracking a smile. "I'll give you that. I'm not still _angry_ at—Vader, Rey. I simply don't think a reconciliation would be beneficial. Although it depends on what reconciliation means. We're on friendly terms—but almost-brothers—no. There's too much there, for both of us, and it no longer hurts, but we've taken our paths and they just don't converge as yet."

Rey nods as if she understands, but she doesn't. She looks at Luke and wonders. Why has he given up so much to take care of that wizened man whom everyone hates? And does Vader really deserve it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Short chapter; I know. Next time there will be another flashback!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some time-period-appropriate sexism/classism.

_**Forty-six years ago** _

"Be good for me, Ani." Her dark eyes wet, Mom pulls him in to kiss his forehead. Her lips, chapped, scratch his skin as he squirms away.

"Don't cry," Anakin tries to tell her. His heart thumps in his chest, but he won't let her know that he's scared. "I'll be back."

"I know, baby." She smiles, shadows falling all around her as passersby rush through the train station. "And we'll write."

"Maybe call on the telephone?" Anakin tries. Without him there to feed and cloth, he already knows Mom will be able to eat every night, so she won't have to lie awake in bed listening to her stomach growl so loudly Anakin can hear it. Of course, he won't be there to hear it.

"Maybe," she allows.

He looks up to the man Mom's sending him away with. He tried to imagine Qui-Gon Jinn was his father when he first showed up and befriended Mom, but Mom says he's not. " _You don't have a father, Ani."_

He knows that's not true, but he'll take Qui-Gon as a sort of father, for now. They say Mom's sick, and she has to get healthy. Without him, she'll have enough money for medicine.

An older boy accompanies Qui-Gon. _Obi-Wan,_ Anakin remembers. Mom told him he's an orphan. _Poor Obi-Wan,_ Anakin thinks. He can't imagine what would happen if Mom were to die. He suspects his father's dead. That must be why Mom doesn't talk about him.

They board the train, and Anakin lets out a yelp when it lurches under his feet.

"We've moving," Qui-Gon says with a grin as he hoists Anakin's carpetbag up onto the seat. Anakin scrambles to the window, peering outside as the cramped buildings of Tatooine whiz by. There goes the baker's shop, with the crabby old baker who yelled at Anakin when he asked for a loan, and the laundrymat, where Anakin asked if he could help for fifty cents an hour and where Qui-Gon found him. And then it's all gone, vanishing behind him as fields and, in the distance, mountains that look like sleeping bears, take over.

"If you're tired, you should sleep," Obi-Wan tells him.

"I'm not tired," Anakin protests. "I heard the ocean's there."

Obi-Wan laughs. "It is."

"Can you see the other side?"

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Nope. It's huge."

Qui-Gon buries his nose in a book, but not before Anakin sees him smiling.

Obi-Wan details the ocean, and their house, and the entire town of Yavin. Anakin half-listens, half-stares out the window. The mountains are gone now, but a flock of white and gray birds swoop all around them. Qui-Gon rises and says something about food.

 _Food?_ Anakin's stomach aches right now. Mom said he'd never be hungry again, but he already knows that wasn't true. But he might not ever be hungry _long_ again, he tells himself, resting his head on the bars of the window.

The blue bars turn into gray, and then he dreams about an angel, the one his mother used to tell him was looking out for him and for her, running around and laughing as he tries to catch her. "Come back!" he calls, remembering that angels are from heaven. "Do you know my father?"

A giggle knocks, and he's pried out of his gray sleep. He blinks, turning over to see a girl peering down at him, her eyes wide and brown and her hair curling over her shoulders.

"Are you an angel?" he mutters.

"No!" she laughs, her face flushing as she covers it with her hands. "I'm not!"

"Anakin, this is Padmé Amidala," Obi-Wan says, and the last dregs of sleep fall away.

 _Oh_. Scowling, Anakin wishes he could wipe away the last few minutes so he doesn't look so young— _napping_ —and so stupid.

A white dress floats around her, and she drops onto the seat in front of him.

"Her family spends the summers in Yavin, too," Obi-Wan tells Anakin. "And I think she's desperate for a playmate. You're the same age."

"Obi-Wan, you're fun to hang around," Padmé protests.

"Sure I am." Obi-Wan rolls his eyes.

Padmé chortles, and grins at Anakin. He returns it.

 _Mom, I already made a_ friend!

* * *

Unfortunately, it doesn't take more than three days before Anakin realizes that most of Yavin is not nearly as nice as Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and the Amidalas. He and Padmé return from a day of digging and making a fancy sandcastle on the beach—Anakin insisted the moat, made of seawater was really made of lava, to which Padmé argued that it couldn't be because water is clear and lava is orange and red.

"Mom and Dad say I can have one popsicle every day," Padmé reports as she pushes open the screen door to her place. "They'll let you have one too." When Anakin first saw her house, he thought it was a castle. The house he's staying in with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon, back towards the woods, is huge compared to the tiny apartment he shared with Mom.

Speaking of Mom… "Qui-Gon said I can write Mom tonight," Anakin says, skipping a little. He plucks some sand from Padmé's back. She giggles.

"Are you gonna tell her about me?" Padmé asks as she leads him into the kitchen, tiled in white marble. A huge white fridge sits against one wall, and Padmé yanks it open. "I like watermelon. But we also have cotton candy, blue raspberry, bubble gum, and grape."

"Blue raspberry," Anakin requests. "And yeah. I'll tell her about you."

Padmé grins, handing him the popsicle as she closes the fridge. She pops hers into her mouth. "Do you miss her?"

He shakes his head. His chest feels funny—like there's a water balloon in it.

"I'd miss my mom." Padmé declares as she licks her popsicle.

The popsicle tastes sweet, and sour. Anakin's not sure he likes it.

"What is all this?" a voice demands. Someone stomps towards the kitchen. Padmé leaps to her feet as an older gentleman marches in, dressed in a police uniform. Anakin straightens.

"Chief Palpatine!" she cries.

"Padmé, you left sand and water everywhere!" scolds Mrs. Amidala as she sweeps in. "Oh, hello, Anakin. But Padmé, make sure you towel off before you come in next time!"

"Sorry," Padmé says as she chews off some of her popsicle.

"Go outside and rinse off, if you please," Mrs. Amidala orders.

"Yes, Mom." Padmé finishes her popsicle and Anakin finishes his.

"About the recent robberies," they hear Chief Palpatine saying. Padmé freezes, and Anakin copies her.

"No listening!" calls Mrs. Amidala.

They scamper out to the Amidalas' outside shower, which Padmé turns on.

Anakin shrieks. "It's cold!"

"I know!" Padmé laughs.

"Who's this, Padmé?" asks an older boy as he approaches.

"Go away," she snaps.

Anakin's eyes widen. He squints through the water. Padmé's never been rude before.

"Is this that crazy old Jinn's new charity case?" asks the boy, stepping forward. He has a hooked nose, like a parrot, Anakin notes.

"Leave me alone," he says.

"This town's going to go to the dogs if idiots like Jinn keep bringing in riff-raff like Kenobi and this runt," says the kid. "That's what Dooku says. He says the recent string of robberies is just evidence of it. Scum gravitates towards other scum."

Anakin curls his fists. "You're a—"

"Yeah, well, that's not what I say," interrupts a grave voice.

"Mr. Windu!" squeaks Padmé, straightening up.

"Yes, hello, Padmé, and I presume, Anakin," says a handsome black man as he looks down on them. "The only scum I see is someone picking on two ten-year-olds."

The other boy's face reddens, and he runs off without another word.

"Coward!" Anakin calls.

"Anakin," says Mr. Windu, looking severely at him. "Never insult someone who's already given up. It doesn't do anything but give them a sense of justification for their anger to fester."

* * *

Most people, Anakin knows, look at him like that boy. A potential criminal. "Does he even have a father?" he hears one older man, Yoda, asking Qui-Gon late one night as Anakin presses himself into his bed, trying to sleep.

"If it matters that much to all the snobs in this town," Qui-Gon retorts. "I will claim paternity. Let them blame me and not that woman who's nothing if not brave and loving."

"But you never met Shmi before last winter."

"No," Qui-Gon agrees. "But you don't need to have the same blood to be a father, or a mother."

"Anakin," he hears Obi-Wan saying from across the room. "You should go to sleep."

* * *

"I don't want you to leave next week," Anakin confesses as August wanes. He and Padmé sit on the stoop of Qui-Gon's house. He holds a stick, drawing in the dirt. Obi-Wan went to work with Qui-Gon today at the newspaper—Obi-Wan wants to be a reporter, just like Qui-Gon.

"I want you to come with me," Padmé says. "You'd like Naboo, Ani. It's really pretty there."

He laughs.

"Maybe you can visit?"

"Maybe."

Padmé gets to her feet. "Dad gave me two dollars for us to get ice cream at Lor San Tekka's." She flashes a big grin.

Anakin's not hungry, but he pulls himself up. "Mom wrote yesterday."

"What'd she say?" Padmé asks, pausing to admire a butterfly. It flies away and she scowls.

"She misses me, but the doctors say she's getting better," Anakin reports. Although he isn't sure his mother would say anything else, even if she isn't getting better. He swallows that fear. He doesn't want to upset Padmé.

"You are coming to my parents' party tonight, right?" Padmé asks. He nods. He doesn't want to, because this is their goodbye party.

That night, though, he dresses in his nicer jeans and walks over with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon. He parts from them the moment they enter the hallway, and jogs up the stairs towards Padmé's room.

"Ani!" she squeals, wrapping her arms around him. She wears a beautiful blue dress with sparkles on it. "I didn't want to go downstairs until you came. Mr. Dooku's here, and I don't like him."

"I don't either," Anakin says, trying to make himself talk, stop _staring_ so much.

But she's so pretty.

"We could put sand in his cake," Padmé suggests as they head back towards the staircase.

Anakin snickers. "Or—"

"Aren't you worried?" he hears an unfamiliar voice saying. "That ragamuffin's no good for your daughter to be hanging around with."

Anakin stops short. Padmé freezes.

 _I'm no good._ Blood roars in his ears, and he sees all the people—that baker, his mom's boss, the teenagers here who joke about what Padmé will look like in five or six years—who hate him for no reason other than that he doesn't know his father and his mother's best efforts haven't been enough. I'm no good. Tears blur his eyes.

"Ani?" Padmé ventures, reaching for his hand.

He breaks away from her, charging down the stairs and pushing past Yoda.

"Get back here, young man!" Mace Windu calls, but Anakin doesn't stop. Tears stream down his sunburned face, stinging, and it's just not _fair_ —why do all these adults have to act like he's nothing other than a future criminal, someone who's not good enough, even though he's _way nicer_ than all these stuck-up pieces of—

"Anakin!" screams Padmé, chasing after him as he stumbles three houses from the Amidalas', tripping and tumbling to the sand. "Ani, wait!"

The sand crunches under her feet as she approaches. Anakin curses, trying to wipe the sand off him. It won't come off of his arms. _Get off! Get_ off!

"It's not fair," Padmé says above him.

He peers up at her. "What can I do to change their minds?"

Padmé opens her mouth, tears welling in her eyes, and Anakin can't stand it. She shouldn't cry.

Glass shatters. Padmé gasps.

Anakin whirls around to see a dark-clad figure slipping out of the basement window of the Damerons' house.

"We need to get Chief Palpatine," Padmé whispers.

Anakin nods, taking a step back.

But the figure turns, and without a word, starts marching towards them. Padmé screams, grabbing Anakin's hand as the man, wearing a ski mask, pulls out a gun and aims it at them.

"Don't run." The voice comes husky and gentler than Anakin expected.

"Ani, we have to!" Padmé squeaks.

"Get down on the sand," orders the man.

"What's going on here?" shouts a voice, and Anakin whirls around. A shot echoes, and a puff of sand rises from the dune.

Obi-Wan rounds the bend, his face shocked. "Anakin? Padmé!" And then his gaze fixates on the robber.

"Get on the ground," the robber repeats. "You too."

"Do what he says," Obi-Wan orders . The wind ripples through the sand, and it stings Anakin's face as he kneels. He wants to throw up. He wants his Mom, he wants to be home in that simple apartment with her, because he was safe there, because he people hated him but she was there, and she loved him, and she didn't let it get to her so neither could he.

Padmé cries next to him, and he wants to tell her it's okay, but if he talks, will the robber kill them?

A shot rings out, and then another. Padmé screams, scrambling to her knees as there's a groan, and then a thud. Anakin jerks upwards, throwing his arms in front of Padmé—why, he doesn't know, but she can't get hit—and then he spots two figures wrestling on the sand.

"Stop!" Obi-Wan screams, and he throws himself at the two as another shot rings out. Obi-Wan wrestles one figure up—the robber—pinning him to the ground, and Anakin gets to his feet, legs trembling, and he runs.

"Anakin, no!" Padmé screams, but he hears her running behind him.

Qui-Gon lies gasping on his back. Blood pools on the sand around him, staining it, and yet it still sticks to Anakin's jeans, to his knees when he crouches.

"We can put pressure on it," Padmé insists. Shouts echo, and Anakin can tell that a huge crowd's approaching—he hears Mrs. Amidala screaming her daughter's name , and Chief Palpatine barking orders—but he can't focus on anything other than the black, black blood oozing through Padmé's fingers.

"Anakin," whispers Qui-Gon, and the sound of his voice gives Anakin the strength to rip his gaze away, focus it on the pale, pale face of the man who said he wouldn't mind being Anakin's father.

"You're okay," Qui-Gon rasps, and his lips twitch, as if he's about to smile.

When they finally pull Anakin away, he knows Padmé's hugging him, and people are asking him questions, but he can only hear Obi-Wan crying and only feel the wet blood sliming his hands, and the sand.


	7. Chapter 7

"So Finn says you've never been swimming before," Poe says as Rey finishes her omelet.

She's never been out to breakfast before either, but Rey's not going to mention that. She gulps her coffee and nods. It's Saturday, and both Finn and Poe have the day off.

"It's not that hard. We'll start in shallow water."

"Poe, she can just have fun, you know," Finn says with a snort.

"I'd like to learn," Rey says quickly. The small L-shaped diner has several booths, all made of red and white leather. Kitschy modern art hangs on the walls, and the owner, a man who looks to be about Luke's age with dark hair, personally thanks everyone as they leave and apologizes to the huge line of people waiting outside. The line is the reason Poe tried to discourage them from going, but Finn pointed out that he was only there for the summer and had never been, and Rey's now forever indebted. _That bacon omelet was amazing._

"Oh, that's the woman who runs the nonprofit," Finn says as he finishes his orange juice. "Jyn Erso."

A woman who looks somewhat like an older Rey enters, walking up to the owner. _I wonder if my mother looked like me._ A Hispanic man with a faint mustache wraps his arm around her waist.

"Must be her husband," Finn adds. "I haven't met him yet."

"Jyn's great," Poe says. "Good friend of my parents. Cassian is, too. And Bodhi—that's the restaurant owner."

Jyn waves as she passes them. Poe pulls out his wallet.

"Poe, I can help," Finn says in annoyance.

"I can't," Rey admits.

"Which is why I've got you both." Poe plunks down the cash, leaving a generous tip. "To the beach we go." He winks. "You can get it next time, Finn."

"Have a great day!" Bodhi calls after them.

"You too!" Rey calls back.

It's hot and steamy outside, as if the air's trying to suffocate them. Thank God for the breeze.

"Thunderstorms later," Poe reports, scanning his phone as he undoes Beebee-Ate's leash from the hydrant it was tied to. "So we shouldn't go out that far."

"Sure," Rey agrees. The beach comes into view, aquamarine water bubbling as waves crash against the shore. She strips off her t-shirt, revealing the royal purple bikini she bought the day before after asking Obi-Wan for a loan.

" _Rey, you don't need to pay me back," Obi-Wan said, digging through his wallet. "Go buy yourself something you like."_

_And Rey threw her arms around him. "Sorry," she gasped, but when she pulled back, Obi-Wan was smiling._

"Oh, no," Poe mutters, and Rey turns to see Ben shuffling down the sidewalk.

He looks up, catches sight of them, and looks away.

 _Oh, screw it_. Rey waves. "Ben!"

Finn groans, but Ben's eyes light up. He keeps his lips in a flat line as he heads over. "What are you three up to?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Finn asks, crossing his arms. "We're going to the beach."

"Teaching me how to swim," Rey adds. Ben's eyes linger on her swimsuit and his face reddens. "You're welcome to join."

Poe sucks in his breath, but Ben nods. "I'd like to. I'd just—I'll go home and change?"

"What, you don't want to devote your free day to your writing?" Poe asks.

"Snoke doesn't want to see any of my own writing until I have a unique and exciting story," Ben reports, his tone bitter.

"Seriously?" Finn asks. "You're a kid. Although, if you want to report on scammy boardwalk booth-runners, I can be your lead source. I'll freely volunteer than information."

"I'd read your stories," Rey says. "Even if they're not new or exciting."

Ben turns to her, eyebrows wide. "I could read yours too, then."

"She has Luke Skywalker reading hers," Finn says proudly.

"They're just film reviews," Rey adds. _Nothing important._

"He hasn't done any journalism in years, though," Ben grumbles. "I'd like to read them, though, Rey."

"Really?" Her eyebrows fly up.

"Yeah." His arm brushes against hers, and she jumps. "See you soon." He peels away and darts towards his house.

"Be careful, Rey," is all Poe says. She ignores him.

The sand burns hot under her feet as she slips off her flip-flops and shimmies out of her shorts. "Our stuff will be fine," Poe assures her. _Huh_. Leaving stuff on Jakku was practically an invitation for passersby to help themselves. Rey would know, since the day she found a package of Twinkies on the only half of a park bench that was still standing still registers as one of the greatest days of her life.

She yelps as the water licks at her toes. "It's cold!"

"It's not that bad today, actually," Poe says as he slips under, swimming in long strokes. Rey catches Finn watching Poe and smirks. Beebee-Ate woofs and charges in, shaking his fur.

"What's that for?" Finn asks.

Rey shrugs and sucks in her breath, charging in. She drops under a wave and emerges gasping, salt stinging her eyes and soaking her hair. The water's up to her waist here, although she has to jump when waves surge.

"It's better to get it over with quick," Poe calls. "Come on, Finn!"

He plows through the water, reaching them and laughing.

"Okay, Rey," Poe orders "Lie back."

"Lie _back?"_ Rey squeaks. "Won't the waves just—"

"Nope, not if you don't panic. And if you do, Poe and I will help you," Finn tells her.

 _If you panic, we'll help you._ Rey's eyes burn and not from the seawater. She lies back, kicking frantically. Her foot makes contact with a soft surface.

"Oof," grunts someone.

"What?" Rey sits up, bobbing with the waves. "Sorry, Ben!"

"It's fine," he says, wiping water from his face. It's the first time Rey's seen him without his mask of eyeliner, and she rather likes the look.

"If you kick me," Poe warns. "I'll know it wasn't an accident."

Ben rolls his eyes.

* * *

"See, you're getting the hang of it," Ben tells Rey right before a wave crashes down on them. Salt water plunges up his nose, and Ben emerges coughing. But Rey grins at him, her hair in three sopping buns and her eyes sparkling, and his burning lungs don't matter. Sunbeams stab the water around her.

"I'm gonna go lie on the beach for awhile," Poe says. "Work on my tan."

"I'll join you," Finn says. "Chirrut made me borrow this book, and I need to start reading it."

"I'm still really confused as to whether this place is a bookstore or a library," Rey says.

"Me too," Finn jokes. "But this book is actually his, or Baze's. It's _The Brothers Karamazov_ and it's eternally long, so it'll probably take me the rest of the summer to get through it."

"I had to study that last year," Ben says, remembering the story about three brothers struggling to find their own paths away from their father's destructive shadow.

"Is it good?" Rey asks as Finn and Poe slog back to shore, Beebee-Ate on their heels.

Ben nods. "I liked it. It kind of ends on a cliffhanger, though. The author wanted to write a sequel and died before he could."

Rey's jaw drops. "That's horrible!"

"Drown her and I drown you!" Finn hollers back at them as he and Poe jog onto the sand.

Ben flips them off. Rey shakes her head. "How's your internship going?"

Ben frowns. "It's going. How's living with Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"It's going."

"Where did you live before that?" he asks, both of them jumping for a larger wave.

"Jakku. You've never heard of it. No one ever has." Rey clearly doesn't want to discuss it any further. Ben squeezes his fists. _She must think I have everything._

_What does she know?_

A wave crashes over him again, and he splutters as he surfaces.

" _Maybe we should make an effort to spend more time with him this summer," Mom said to Dad last week. Ben huddled in the hallway, his throat parched. He'd just gotten up to get a glass of water. "I'm worried."_

Don't talk about me like I'm some kind of mental case! _Ben gritted his teeth._

" _He rejects me every time I try to talk to him," Dad says. "Maybe it's just the age. Remember when we were teenagers?"_

" _We survived because we were all friends," Chewie grunted._

" _Han, I don't think he_ has _friends," Mom said, and Ben turned and stormed back towards his room, chest aching and stinging as her words splinter._

_Because it's true, and he doesn't know how to make it better._

Writing, _Ben told himself as he reached for his laptop._ That's how I make it better. I'll be as good of a reporter as my uncle ever was.

 _But as he tried to edit an article Snoke has him working on, a teardrop splashed onto his keyboard, and Ben threw the laptop across the bed, away from him, and hit himself in the ribs._ Stop! Stop, stop!

_He didn't know what he wanted to stop: the gnawing sense that he's as worthless as this editorial complaining about ever-changing teenager slang, or his attempts to beat it out of himself._

"You okay?" Rey asks, hauling him up.

He nods, gulping air.

"It's calm over here," Rey calls, moving to the left. "It's almost like a lake. You won't drown there."

 _Calm?_ Ben blinks. Rey paddles through the foamy sea and into a placid area, where she leans back. "Rey, get out of there!"

She whirls around to face him, but the current's already dragged her several feet from him.

"Shit!" Ben plunges through the swirling water, feeling the current rip him back as soon as the deceitfully calm waters grasp him. "Don't try to fight it!" he gasps, swimming towards her. His hands grasp her arms, and Rey gasps, choking as a small wave slaps her in the face. "Wave!" he barks, lifting his arm and waving it around. Rey copies him, but dear God—they're already so far from the shore—a wave slams into them—he can't feel Rey anymore, water scorches his eyes—and then he's up again, and he can see people running around back on the beach, some making their way out of the water— _please see us, please see us, we can't fight it—I don't want to drown!_

"You idiot!" Rey gags. "You shouldn't have—"

"You should have—" His shoulders ache as he tries to tread water. A wave slams into them, and saltwater floods his lungs. Rey's nails dig into his shoulders as she pulls on him. _I'm going to—_

A wave surges, and Ben kicks up. Rey vanishes. _Shit!_ His arms flail, searching for her. And there she is—surfacing behind him, retching.

"Stop—Rey—" He tries, and then he's under again, grasping for the surface—but when he tries for it there must be another wave, because he can't break— _come on, come_ on—his lungs scream—his brain buzzes—nausea floods him and he starts to gag—the ocean shoves its salty hands into his open mouth and there's nowhere for it to go—a blur of purple— _Rey_.

A hand grasps his neck, pulling him up, and something dark and shadowed swims past him, reaching for Rey.

Air.

Ben vomits as someone hauls him onto a jet-ski. His stomach cramps as he hurls again and again.

"You got her, Jess?" shouts a girl with two buns. Something Connix, if Ben remembers correctly. An Asian girl emerges, shoving Rey onto her jet-ski as she hauls herself out, a harness wrapped around her waist to keep her attached to her vehicle. Jess gives a thumbs-up.

Rey spits up water, wheezing as she gulps in air.

 _We're okay,_ Ben thinks dizzily.

* * *

"I can't believe this," Finn says as he waits in a small plastic emergency room chair.

Poe shakes his head, face white. Thank God Snap Wexley, a heavyset lifeguard friend of Poe's, noticed Rey and Ben waving. As it was, by the time they got to shore, Rey was stumbling and barely conscious, and Ben was grimacing as his calves spasmed.

"I want to see my son!" Han Solo's voice roars from the entrance. Finn leaps to his feet, followed by Poe, as Han and Leia round the corner. Chewie, Han's friend, appears behind them, shaking his giant head.

"Mr. Solo, Ms. Organa," says an older doctor as she bursts from the two white doors marked with red lettering: "Emergency personnel only."

"Dr. Kalonia!" Leia cries out. "I heard—Snap said—"

"He's okay; he's conscious, just a bit shaken up," Dr. Kalonia says.

"And Rey?" asks Han.

"She'll be all right." Dr. Kalonia purses her lips. "I don't suppose—"

"Dr. Kalonia!" shouts a gravelly voice. Finn peers around the corner to see Obi-Wan staggering towards them, Luke behind him. "Is my granddaughter—"

"You can both see your kids," Dr. Kalonia says. "If you'll come right this way." Beckoning, she leads them through the closed doors.

The doors Finn won't go through, because he's not family. He collapses back onto the chair.

"They're okay," Poe gasps. "They're okay, Finn."

"I heard." Finn clutches the chair's arms, wondering how he would have reacted if they weren't okay. It's almost what he expected.

Because in his life, things seldom ever are _okay_.

Finn doubles over, trying to remember to breath. Relief shouldn't feel like a snake, squeezing his breath away.

"Finn?" Poe asks.

He shakes his head. Tears sting his eyes and he wipes them away. "I'm just—really glad they're all right."

"Me too." A hand lands on his shoulder, and Finn bites his lip. His teeth chatter as the air conditioning blows mercilessly down on them.

"I was just thinking," he says. "If it had been me, and I'd died. I don't know whether anyone would bother to come to my funeral."

The moment he says it, he realizes how selfish he sounds.

"I would," Poe says quietly. "Hell, dude, I'd make sure your grave had flowers every month. Or I'd scatter your ashes wherever you wanted."

Finn snorts. "That's real kind of you."

"Seriously, though," Poe says. "You've got a lot of people who care about you, you know? Rey, me, Baze and Chirrut from what you've told me, Jyn—"

"I feel guilty for not noticing," Finn admits. "They were drowning, and I didn't notice."

"I didn't, either," Poe says softly.

 _I'm drowning,_ Finn can't help but think. _And I'm so afraid that no one will notice, and I'm too scared trying to swim out myself to call for help._

_Please, someone help me._

"Are you cold?" Poe asks.

"I'm fine," Finn insists, even as the air conditioner whirs and starts up again.

"Here," Poe says, digging through his sandy beach bag. He gave Beebee-Ate to Snap to look after. He draws out a rumpled leather jacket. "Put it on."

Finn hesitates.

"Look, you're cold. You might as well," Poe points out.

Finn takes it and shrugs into it. The relief is instantaneous.

"Maybe you should keep it," Poe muses, looking Finn up and down as he bites his lip. Finn's heart picks up pace. "It suits you."

* * *

"Ben, why would you risk your life like that?" Mom demands, gripping her skull. "Swimming in there after her—you both could have died!"

He sits on the emergency room cot, wrapped in one of the hospital's ridiculous robes. "Because I didn't want her to drown?"

"But you both almost—"

"Fine," Ben snaps, listening to the intercom page Dr. Kalonia. "I see how it is. I can't do anything right, can I?"

The curtain flies back, and Threepio totters in. "My goodness! Ben, I was so worried—"

"Why is he here?" Ben complains as Threepio holds his hands out for some Purell from the dispenser.

"Ben, that is _not_ what I meant," Mom states. She purses her lips. "That came out wrong. I'm sorry."

"We're both proud of you, kid," Dad says.

"My goodness," Threepio says again.

 _Proud?_ Ben can't remember the last time they said that, aside from his flawless report cards.

"We'd just like you to show some care for your own life," Chewie grumbles.

"We can't imagine losing you," Mom adds.

Ben shrugs. "Well, you didn't."

" _Thankfully_ ," Mom says, and she hesitates, and then wraps her arms around him.

Ben blinks. He's used to shoving her away when she tries to hug him, but this time, with the memory of the water suffocating him, he can't. He leans into the arms, trying to breathe.

"Excuse me," says a familiar voice. Mom pulls back, and Ben spots Obi-Wan Kenobi standing there.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan chokes out. He stumbles forward, grasping Ben's hands, and again Ben doesn't know what to do or say. He's not used to adults looking at him like this. "You helped save her life."

Uncle Luke appears behind him, a soft smile on his face. Ben can't figure out how to respond to all this attention—he's used to being ignored, or condemned.

Especially by Uncle Luke.

" _Your parents are busy for good reasons, Ben," Uncle Luke told him last summer, when they were both gone for two weeks and Ben was left alone. "Your mom's new legislation on human trafficking is—"_

" _Fantastic," Ben said sarcastically._

" _It_ is _. It will—"_

" _So what you're saying is that I'm selfish?" Ben demanded. "For wanting her here?" And then there it is: the fact that he wants her, a fact he hates that he just admitted because after so many missed school plays, he simply dropped drama and told them he didn't want to do it anymore. For each missed dance, he said he didn't have a date anyways._

" _You'll get them, kid," Dad would say, but Ben didn't want_ them _—he wanted them._

" _That's not—" Luke starts._

" _I can't stop feeling! I'm not like you! And I don't want to be like you! You think duty matters more than anyone or anything else!"_

" _More than you?" Uncle Luke asked, raising an eyebrow._

_Ben said nothing, fists curled._

" _That's why you're devoted to some crazy old cop—he was your source, right?"_

" _You're wrong," Uncle Luke told him, swallowing hard. "You know very little, Ben."_

He isn't sure his uncle and his parents are the kind of people he wants to make proud of him, but damn if it doesn't feel like sweet relief.


	8. Chapter 8

"Yo," Rey says as she enters Ben's house the next morning, her head aching. Leia and Han invited them for breakfast, and she woke to find Obi-Wan concocting a fruit salad. The man even hugged her when she entered the kitchen.

 _I do matter, after all_.

All that's wrong with the world is just this dumb headache.

"Hey." Ben grins.

Rey pulls out her phone. "I got about seventeen texts from Finn last night."

Ben snorts as she heads to the kitchen, putting down the fruit salad. "I hope you texted him back."

"Of course I did." Rey steals a strawberry, popping it into her mouth. Her headache lightens. Coffee might cure it. "He feels bad, I think, about what happened."

Ben winces.

"Thanks for coming after me, by the way," Rey says as she takes a slice of mango next.

"Why wouldn't I have?" Ben asks, and Rey stops chewing with the mango half in her mouth. He drops his eyes. "I mean—"

Rey swallows and reaches for some pineapple.

"Leave some for breakfast!" Ben teases.

"I'm still not used to being able to have this kind of food," Rey says. "I was lucky to get apples, back in Jakku. Unkar wasn't much for nutrition."

"Who was Unkar?" Ben asks, leaning back against the counter. The eyeliner's back, but she doesn't mind it so much.

"My guardian. Kind of. He didn't really do much guarding, although he did a lot of ordering me around." Rey rolls her eyes. "You'd think the state wasn't paying him, by the amount of work he made me do to 'earn my keep.'"

"I'm sorry."

Rey shrugs. "It is what it is."

"How did Obi-Wan find you, then?" Ben asks. "If you don't mind me asking."

Rey leans back across the counter, resting on her elbow "It's a long story."

"We've got time."

"As much as your mother decides to give us before we eat."

He smirks.

Rey leans forward, her heart pounding. He won't judge her, will he? He's got no right to. "I stole one of Unkar's cars."

"What?" Ben's jaw drops. Clearly he was not expecting that answer.

"A friend needed some help that day. I was really just borrowing it—I planned to return it. I wasn't really up for running away." Rey eyes a green slice of kiwi. _Hold out, Rey. You can do it._

"Why not?" Ben asks. "It sounds miserable. Asshole wouldn't give you time to write, treated you like you weren't wanted—"

"I wasn't wanted, but my work was," Rey cuts in. "He probably misses the extra hands." She caves, reaching for the kiwi. Ben lets her. "I kept hoping my parents would come back for me. They said they would, you know. When they left me. I remember them telling me to wait for them. I don't remember their faces, though. Isn't that strange?"

Ben's dark eyes focus on her, softer than normal.

"Instead, I got arrested trying to drive my friend over the state line so she could see her boyfriend. And she wasn't even really my friend, I guess," Rey says as she swallows the kiwi. _Too sour_. "She just offered to pay me a hundred dollars. With that, I could afford some new books, and some better food than the fast food and canned soup I pretty much lived on. When I got back to Unkar's after dropping her off, the police were waiting, and Unkar took my money and the social worker decided I couldn't go back there." Rey remembers how she cried when the social worker told her that, how she insisted that she had to go back, her parents were waiting for her.

" _Rey, we found your grandfather," the woman told her instead._

"And she said my parents were dead. I guess they died of an overdose years ago, but no one bothered to track down me or Obi-Wan then."

"What was Obi-Wan's relationship with them? Was it with your mom or your dad?" Ben asks.

"My mom was his daughter. My dad was—I don't even know his name. And I don't know. Obi-Wan doesn't really seem eager to talk about it." Rey drops her eyes. When she lifts them, Ben's hovering over her face, his nose less than an inch from her own. Her heart skips a beat. She feels his finger tracing the vein along the back of her hand, and she's frozen.

"Brunch time!" Threepio calls, entering the room. He stops still. "Oh. _Oh."_

"It's not what you think," Rey blurts out, breaking away.

"It's not," Ben adds.

"I may be old, Ben, but I am not _blind_ ," Threepio huffs.

"You might be if you spread rumors," Ben threatens.

"Well, I never!" Threepio shakes his head and reaches for the salad.

"I'll get it," Rey says quickly. "You owe me your story," she mutters to Ben as they head to the table.

* * *

"There's not much to tell," Ben says later, two blueberry pancakes and an omelet resting in his stomach.

"Your parents are a senator and a shipper, and not in the tumblr sense," Rey says, leaning back against the door of his room. She appears unimpressed by everything except the cactus plant Luke got him last year. "Your uncle's a Pulitzer prize winning reporter. There's got to be a story."

"There's not much of one. Well, they have their stories, but you should ask them for those," Ben says.

"So you're jealous," Rey states.

"What?" Ben sits bolt upright on his bed, peering down at her.

"You're jealous," she repeats. "You feel as if their lives are more important than yours will ever be."

"That's not true."

"Only because you're determined it won't be true. It's what you're afraid of." Rey reaches up and grabs the cactus plant from his bookshelf, turning it around and around in her hand.

Ben sits in silence. His tongue feels thick in his mouth. "Do you want me to read your writing or not?"

"Sure." Rey sets down the plant, digging in the pockets of her capris. She hands over several folded pieces.

"They're good," Ben says after a few minutes.

"They're good—but?" Rey prompts.

"Well, you could use a little more description in the first one, and in the second one, if you varied your sentence structure—like, see here…" Ben holds the papers out, pointing out sentences and phrases he liked and ones he thought could be improved.

"Huh," Rey says, now sitting next to him on the bed, her fingers playing with the dark charcoal afghan he has. "Thanks."

"No problem." Ben clears his throat. A bee buzzes outside his window, stymied by the screen. "What did my uncle say?"

"Just… that it was good." Rey shrugs. "He didn't really give specific pointers."

"Not surprised." Ben huffs and lies back, staring up at the blank ceiling.

"Why are you so down on him?" Rey asks. "I would have thought you'd admire him."

"I admire his reporting skills. I don't admire his attitude towards life. He'll excuse anyone and anything if he loves someone."

"He doesn't strike me as a pushover."

Ben bites his lip. "He's not, exactly. He's just—wasting his talents to take care of someone my mother hates, whom, as far as I know, did nothing other than help him write his breakthrough article when he was young. And I don't respect hiding your talents under a bushel."

"Have you ever researched it?" Rey asks, peering down at his face, brown hair surrounding her. "Officer Darth Vader, I mean. Besides your uncle's newspaper articles. I mean there's got to be court records and such, right? Since it was such a huge scandal—maybe you'd think differently if something came out in that, like maybe he helped save Luke's life or something. I don't know."

"That sounds pretty fantastical." Ben snorts. But he does wonder. Because he never has researched it.

"Ben!" The door flies open and Ben flies up, determined not to let anyone catch him and Rey in any sort of compromising position again. "You're in the paper, kid," Dad says proudly, tossing _The First Order_ down on his bed.

"Really?" Rey gasps.

_The First Order's Very Own Intern Saves Girl From Drowning!_

_By Armitage Hux_

By the time Ben reaches the line about "although Solo's duties for the paper are currently confined to delivering coffees and editing," he's fuming.

"What's wrong, kid?" Dad demands.

 _You actually noticed?_ Ben scowls. "This guy's a douchebag. He's making it sound as if I'm just a bitch boy."

Dad raises his eyebrows. "Well, sorry, kid, but I don't see it that way. You're a hero, and they're calling you that."

"Forget it." Ben rolls over, fury burning in his belly. "You don't understand."

"Understand what?" Dad sounds bewildered.

 _Seriously?_ "Hux is a bully," Ben states flatly. "It's a dig. I know him."

"Oh." Dad's eyebrows rise. "Well, I would know more about him if you'd tell me sometimes how your day was beyond _fine_."

"Should I go?" Rey asks.

"No," Ben says, glaring at his father. "It's _fine."_

Dad hesitates, and then throws up his hands, leaving the room. Rey sighs.

* * *

"Turn it off," Baze grunts. Bodhi obliges, and the television goes silent. Finn shakes his head. All talk of politics and how, with elections upcoming next year, the situation's getting tense.

He doesn't know how Ms. Organa does it. Finn's too often thought of politicians as soulless, but Ms. Organa proves him wrong.

"They're glad you're here," Bodhi says softly to Finn as he dusts one of the bookshelves. No matter how much he wipes, it seems dust still clings to it. Which according to Chirrut, is fine because it gives a bookstore character. According to Baze, it's an abomination and must go.

Finn blinks, looking up at the middle-aged man who looks Middle-Eastern. His long dark hair's worn back in a ponytail, and Poe once gushed that Bodhi used to be a pilot. "Really?"

"Yeah." Bodhi shrugs.

"Baze will be grumpy," calls Kaytoo, a shockingly tall man who appears to have a habit of saying whatever comes into his mind. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't like you."

"Oh." Finn's face warms. Baze groans.

"It's true," Chirrut says with a grin. He just got back from church. According to Baze, he goes every day, which is a lot of dedication in Finn's opinion. Although he knows Obi-wan takes Rey on Sundays, and the Organas and Luke Skywalker go then too. And Jyn, because Chirrut mentioned running into her there once.

"Jury's still out on you in my opinion," Kaytoo adds.

"Don't take it personally," Bodhi advises. "When we first me, Kaytoo hated me—and Jyn—"

"I didn't hate you! I was wary of you and with good reason." Finn notices Kaytoo doesn't deny hating Jyn, which makes him wonder. Supposedly they get along now.

"How did you meet?" Finn ventures.

Bodhi opens his mouth, but Chirrut shakes his head. "Story for another time."

 _Okay then_. Finn shifts to another shelf.

"Jyn told us about you quitting because that stall on the boardwalk is cheating people," Bodhi adds. "That takes bravery."

Finn pauses, dust tickling his nostrils. No one's ever really called him brave. Or noticed him as anything more than a nuisance. _Why are all these people suddenly being so kind to me?_

"Bodhi faced a similar decision once," Kaytoo says.

"Really?" Finn blurts out. Again, it strikes him as so strange, adults wanting to connect with him.

"Yup," Bodhi confirms. "I had been helping casinos smuggle—well, illegal things—because I really needed the money when I was younger—"

Finn raises his eyebrows.

"And the police were working with the owners so I couldn't go to them," Bodhi says. "So I went to Bail Organa. And then to different police."

"Still got community service for it," Kaytoo puts in.

"That's actually how I met Jyn," Bodhi admits with a shake of his head.

"Community service?" Finn asks. _Seriously_?

"Uh-huh." Bodhi nods.

"What did she do?" Finn can't help but question.

Bodhi bursts into laughter. "You'll have to ask her."

Finn can just imagine it. _Hi, Ms. Erso. I heard you were doing community service when you were a kid. What crime did you commit to get sentenced?_

She might be nice, but Finn can't shake the image of her drop-kicking him over the sand dunes out of his mind.

"She'd answer," Bodhi adds. "Just because you're not especially proud of your past doesn't mean it's not where you came from, and that it didn't help shape you, and some good may have come from it in spite of everything." He grins. "Jyn's father told me that."

 _What good can possibly come from whom I've been?_ Finn wonders. He's never had choices to make, nothing he can be proud or be ashamed of, not until this summer at least. He's just been, and tried to avoid the bad side of his various foster parents and teachers.

 _They think I made a brave choice_.

Finn thinks of Rey, and Poe, and how they both look at him like he's a friend. That first night when he met Rey, she didn't see him as a poor foster kid, but as a potential friend, and he's not the same for it.

 _I can be brave. I can be a friend_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next time, we venture back into the past...


	9. Chapter 9

_**Forty-one years ago** _

It's _today_.

Padmé arrives today. Anakin live for these summers, when he gets to see her.

After Qui-Gon's death, Mace Windu took both him and Obi-Wan in, although Obi-Wan's now pursuing his education at community college, planning to be a cop now instead of a journalist. No doubt to stop criminals like Maul before they hurt more people. Not that he explains so much to Anakin, but then again, he doesn't need to.

The autumn, winter, and spring might as well be one season for Anakin: depressing. Although at least at Christmas he gets to see his mom, who married a guy named Cliegg last year. He's nice and treated Anakin well when he visited, and Cliegg's son Owen and girlfriend Beru were kind as well. They offered to let Anakin stay, but he opted to return to Yavin.

At this point, Obi-Wan's more of a father to him than Cliegg could possibly be.

"How are we going to tell him?" he hears Obi-Wan asking as Anakin heads down the stairs, after spending far longer than he'd ever admit on his hair.

"Tell who?" he asks as he bursts into the kitchen.

"Shit," says Mace, and Anakin's heart sinks. Obi-Wan sits at the plain oak table, his head in his hands. Chief Palpatine stands there, which is odd, because as far as Anakin remembers, Palpatine and Mace are constantly arguing about whether Palpatine's arrested the right people.

 _Is Padmé not coming_? Last year, her parents were less than friendly to him, seeing him as a potential bad influence on her, and at the very least, a stain on her reputation. Anakin swallows and sinks into the chair across from Obi-Wan. "What happened?"

They exchange a glance Anakin can't read. Irritation flares. "Tell me," he demands.

Normally Mace would scold him for not being more polite, but today, Mace just glugs more black coffee and nods. "Palpatine, you should go."

"Fine," agrees the older man, sweeping towards the door. On his way out, he grasps Anakin's arm. "Anakin, son, my deepest condolences."

 _What?_ Anakin's stomach suddenly feels as if an iceberg stabbed it.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan begins. "I got a phone call this morning. From Owen Lars."

"Owen?" Anakin doesn't understand what his stepbrother could be calling about. Unless—

"There was an accident," Obi-Wan says, reaching for his hand. "A drunk driver. Anakin, Cliegg and your mother both didn't make it."

"Huh?" Anakin pulls away, blinking. What they're saying doesn't make sense.

This can't be.

He sent a letter to her just two days ago, promising to write more once Padmé arrived.

She wouldn't have received it yet and he wrote at the end that he loved her and was so happy for her and she needs to read that she needs to read that she _needs_ to, dammit!

"Anakin, take a deep breath!" Obi-Wan cries, leaping to his feet. Anakin realizes he's standing, his hands clenched in fists, reading to strike—what? Who?

"Where's the driver? The drunk? Is he dead too?" Anakin ekes out. _I'll kill him—I'll—_

"No. He's been arrested," Mace says.

"I hope he dies!" Anakin screams. "But—Obi-Wan—Owen, maybe he doesn't—didn't identify—"

"He did, Anakin," Obi-Wan says quietly. "I'm truly sorry."

Anakin wraps his arms around himself, wishing like hell his mother were here to press his face into her shoulder, comb her fingers through his hair and tell him it was all okay, it would all be okay, it wouldn't be this way forever.

But death is forever.

* * *

Padmé shows up as the sunlight starts to glow orange. "You have a visitor," Obi-Wan tells him, and Anakin doesn't bother to look up until she's crouching in front of him, something squirming in her arms.

"Ani," she says, and he looks up to see her eyes, soft brown and ringed with tears, locked on his, and a puppy wriggling to escape.

"What's this?" he demands.

Padmé blinks. "How are—"

"No, him," Anakin says, dodging the question. He nods at the animal. He can't bring himself to touch it.

Padmé sits on the sofa next to him. "His name's Artoo. Threepio, our butler, found him for me and I begged Dad to let me keep him."

"Well, put him down. I'd like to see him chew up Mace's purple curtains."

Padmé snorts and lets the puppy loose. He trots around, studying but not chewing on anything. "Ani, I am _so_ sorry."

"Don't," Anakin says. He can't hear it from her. _It can't be real._

"Don't what? Say that I'm sorry? I am sorry. We always talked about how we would visit her together—and with your stepfather and stepbrother now too—and it's so _unfair_." Her voice catches. "I wanted to meet her."

 _Unfair_.

When has life ever been fair? He shouldn't have had to leave Tatooine. Mom shouldn't have been trapped there. No one should look at him like he's gum stuck to the pavement just because he doesn't have a father and because he's poor. Padmé's parents shouldn't wrinkle their noses just because God decided to give him to his mother.

Padmé leans her head against his shoulder.

"I hope he suffers," Anakin manages. _I hope they all do._

"I don't blame you."

He cries into her shoulder, and she doesn't make him feel weak. Artoo curls up against his legs, and Padmé holds him, and he almost imagines that things will be all right, that the world can be changed, that things don't have to stay the way they are.

* * *

"Padmé, what about dinner tonight?" Mother calls.

"Mother, I am not going on another one of these pseudo-dates," Padmé shouts, arranging her sapphire dress just so.

"Fine, dear." Mother appears in the doorway of her room. "But you know people are talking, saying that Padmé Naberrie-Amidala is up to no good with that boy—"

"Anakin just lost his mother! And you used to like him. What's made you act so snobbish the past two years?" Padmé glares at her as she clips in diamond earrings. It's hurting her, the way they're treating her friend, and they don't seem to care because everything's about their reputations.

"We _do_ like him, Padmé," Mother shoots back. "Your sister heard that he was involved in some vandalism at his school last year, as you know."

"Well, everyone makes mistakes," Padmé says. She and Anakin discussed it last year, and she's no interest in beating a dead horse.

"Please come tonight, Padmé," Mother says wearily. "Sola will be joining us, with her husband, and—"

"If I agree to go," Padmé says. "Will you let me off the hook for the rest of the summer and get Father to stop bringing guys around?"

Mother hesitates.

She waits.

Mother smirks. "Yes."

But a half hour into dinner, and Padmé already regrets her bargain. This _Ian_ they brought is sweet, but a bit overbearing, and the pasta with pesto sauce doesn't have nearly as much flavor as it should.

She excuses herself to visit the restroom, and as she's leaving, Padmé bumps into Yoda, that old lawyer who seems to be close friends with Mace Windu.

"Hello," she greets him.

He nods at her. "How are you?"

"Fine." Padmé manages a weak smile.

"I haven't been able to see Anakin since the news," Yoda says. "I'll drop by tomorrow."

"But you were there last weekend," Padmé says, confused.

Yoda cocks his head. "Then you don't know."

"What?" Padmé's heart starts to pick up pace. The pasta and pesto undulate inside her. "Is he okay, Yoda? Is—"

"The driver who killed his mother took a plea bargain. Minimal community service." Yoda shakes his head.

"But that's not right!" Padmé protests. "It's—"

"Never underestimate the power of money," Yoda tells her. "Especially on lawyers."

"This is bullshit," Padmé declares. Heat washes over her. Poor Ani—he's going to be devastated—and all because people think Shmi's life is worth less, just because she's got next to no money? _You ruined a family, and it doesn't matter because the family isn't one with a name that's known outside of Tatooine?_

"Miss Amidala—"

She pushes past him, marching back to the dinner table, here her parents, Ian, her sister and her husband all sit. "I have to go."

"You can't go anywhere," Father snaps. "We haven't even—"

"If you have questions, talk to Yoda," Padmé shoots back, and then she's storming out, her mother yelling behind her. _I can't._

 _Please don't do anything stupid, Ani._ Fear clobbers her as she breaks into a run, her curls coming undone and sweat blossoming on her neck.

She screams his name as she approaches the house, pounding on the door. " _Anakin!_ Anakin— _Skywalker!"_

The door swings open and Padmé almost topples in. "Ani!"

His eyes are bloodshot, and he's wavering as if he's drunk. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, Ani," Padmé says, shutting the door behind her. She throws her arms around him, and this time, she's the one crying. Tears run down her face, sticky and hot.

_I'm trapped. I'm trapped too, and I don't know how to escape. I don't want to be what they want me to be._

"Why are you crying?" he asks, pulling away. He heads towards the living room, and she follows, grabbing the bottle of wine.

"We're going to the beach," she declares. _I can't stand to be surrounded by these blank walls, not now._

"It's just not right," Padmé says as they head past the lights and muffled laughter of boardwalk, past the sand dunes to the little alcove Padmé used to escape to with Sola as a child. They had a whole elaborate world, where the minnows were actually mermaids and the rocks lining this part of the shore were where the land people lived, and Padmé and Sola were their queens. The jetty stretches out just to their right, lighthouse winking on top of it.

"I know, and there's _nothing_ I can do." They stop on one large rock, and Padmé drops down, dangling her legs over the edge. Anakin joins her.

Padmé yanks the cork out of the wine and chugs some of it herself. Anakin's jaw drops. "Nothing's fair and I'm angry." The wine burns. She drinks more. "Things can't stay this way. There should be justice. Children should be able to choose their own paths. Where they come from, whether it's privilege or poverty, shouldn't dictate what they become. Only their choices should matter."

"But it does matter," Anakin says bitterly. He reaches for the wine and gulps some. Padmé takes it back.

"They keep parading guys in front of me, hoping I'll choose one that's suitable. I want to go to college. I want to work. They support that, but only to an extent."

"I'm sorry."

Padmé shakes her head.

"I really miss her," Anakin admits, voice cracking. "None of it's right—she was a kind, good—"

"I wish I could have met her," Padmé says. The waves lap at her toes, soaking her shoes.

"She would have loved you," Anakin says. "She loved. She was hopeful, and strong. Like you. No matter what."

"I don't feel strong right now."

"But you are," he insists, placing his hand down. He winces and brushes his hands off.

"What is it?" she asks as she takes another swig. Her head feels light now, as if she could float over the cove and out into the sea, towards the bloated moon, fade over the horizon.

"I hate sand," Anakin says.

Padmé remembers Qui-Gon, bleeding out.

"It's course, rough, irritating," he adds. "It gets everywhere."

 _Like you can't forget. No matter what. You can't shake off where you come from just like I can't, and it prickles at us and clings to us no matter what_. Padmé nods. "I understand."

Anakin looks at her, his eyes shining. "You're different," he says, voice trembling.

"You are, too." Padmé's fingers fiddle with the bottle. She belches. "Oops."

He laughs.

"What the hell is going on here?" a voice shouts. "Padmé!"

She scrambles to her feet, except she's drunk and the rock's damp and she slips, toppling to the sand and water. The wine bottle shatters, spilling what's left all over her. _There goes my dress._ She flinches, trying to brush the sand and glass off her palms. A shard scrapes her, and blood leaks down her wrist.

Anakin drops down beside her, grasping her by the waist and helping her back up.

"Thanks," she mumbles. Damn, she drank a lot. Padmé squeezes her eyes shut, willing the world to stop spinning and her stomach to stop dancing.

"Anakin, really?" Sola demands as she storms to them, grabbing Padmé's arm.

"Don't yell at him!" Padmé slurs. "He just—his mother—"

"You're both still responsible for your own actions," Sola retorts, and as she drags Padmé out of the cove, she catches sight of Obi-Wan.

"Good job," Obi-wan snaps at Anakin. Ani doubles over, vomiting, and Obi-Wan sighs, dropping down beside him and holding his hair. "It's okay, Anakin. It's okay."

* * *

"We can't keep sticking out necks out for you!" Mace rants when Anakin stumbles to the breakfast table in the morning. "Try for a little responsibility!"

Anakin mutters an apology, clutching his head. His skull feels as if someone took sandpaper to the inside, leaving him bloody and raw.

"Mace, Palpatine's here to discuss your latest case," Obi-Wan reports as he enters the room.

"Tell him I'll be right there." Mace gets to his feet, heading back up the stairs. The thuds from his footsteps might as well be hammers bashing Anakin's skull. He presses his face down on the table.

By the time he lifts it, Obi-Wan's gone too, but Chief Palpatine stands there, eyebrows raised.

"Sorry," Anakin ekes out, trying to lift his head. "I—"

"I heard about your misadventure with Miss Amidala." Palpatine smirks. "Teen drinking isn't wise, although there are far more important priorities for policemen. Not, necessarily, for parents."

Anakin nods, trying to pour himself a glass of orange juice.

"Let me help you." Palpatine pours some of the orange liquid. "It'll help. Just take it easy today, Anakin."

'Thanks," he mutters, sipping the juice.

Palaptine's hand lands on his shoulder, an almost fatherly gesture. "And it'd be wise to listen to what Mace Windu is telling you."

"I thought you two didn't get along."

"We don't, but that doesn't mean he's wrong about everything." Palpatine's line face caves into a smile. "You need to take responsibility for yourself. Take control of your own destiny. You've got the brawn to do it."

 _Do I?_ Anakin wonders. Because right now, lifting the orange juice to his mouth is taking more effort than he's sure he can spare.

"I have no doubt," Palpatine says quietly. "That someday, you'll make us all very proud."

* * *

Padmé visits three days later, when Mace and Obi-Wan are both at work.

"I'm so sorry," Anakin blurts out the moment he sees her, standing there with Artoo on his leash, the emerald and bronze trees and azure skies nothing compared to how she looks, brown hair pulled up and clad in white pants and a shirt that reveals a slip of skin around her waist.

"For what?" Padmé asks. "I made my own decision, Ani." She nods. "Can I come in?"

He leads her inside, turning on the fan. Sweat drips down his back.

"How have you been?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I'm trying to take responsibility here."

She chortles. "For yourself. You don't need to do it for me. I'm fully capable of deciding to drink on my own, and I swear, if my parents keep bringing Ian Lago around I will do it again."

He laughs. "You better not."

She raises an eyebrow, slumping on the floor. He drops next to her. "Because," he says. "You're better than that." He swallows. "Although I'm not sure if you should give Ian Lago a chance or not. That's up to you."

"Yeah, and I don't want to," Padmé says, her eyes hard. "I like someone else, Anakin."

Anakin tries to swallow, but his mouth feels dry. _If only_ —"Someday, Padmé," he vows. "Someday, you know, I'll make you and your family proud, I—"

"Anakin," Padmé snaps, her fingers reaching out, stroking his face and shocking him into silence. "I _am_ proud of you. You make—you keep going, in the face of things I can't even imagine. You inspire me right _now_ , as you are."

_I do?_

Anakin's heart isn't beating. Or if it is, he can't hear it.

 _Screw it._ Anakin dives down, his lips taking Padmé's. She leans into his kiss, her hand cupping the back of his head. Her mouth tastes like cream and coffee, and all Anakin can think is how he's been dreaming about doing this, about kissing his angel, since the moment he met her on the train over five years ago. And the truth comes out: "I love you."

She pulls away, gasping for air. Her hands cup his face. "I love you, too, Ani." And her mouth covers his again, and her hands plunge under his shirt.

 _What do I do?_ Anakin wonders, momentary panic cutting through his bliss.

She reaches out and takes his hands, putting them on her chest. "If you want to."

 _I want to_. Anakin meets her gaze and smiles. Their kisses grow deeper and deeper, and while, in the back of his mind, he knows he's the little boy who is a charity case from Tatooine, he knows his mother's killer got off because she didn't matter, but right now, Padmé tells him he matters, she tells him she loves him, and she trusts him and he doesn't have to work to impress her, but he gets to, and to him, she's holy. She's fire and she's brave, and she needs to get to live her own life and she will, because she's determined and capable and resourceful and he loves, loves, loves her.


	10. Chapter 10

"What about this one?" Rey asks, plucking a copy of _Anna Karenina_ off the shelf.

"Rey," Finn groans. "I seriously have no idea what kind of book Ben Solo likes to read."

"Well, I do want to thank him," Rey answers, paging through the book. _Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way_. Interesting way to start a book, that's for sure.

"That's awfully kind of you," comments Chirrut, Finn's blind boss. Rey likes him.

Baze snorts. Sunlight filters through the window, casting the store in a cozy glow. Finn smirks.

"It's a good story, too," Chirrut continues.

"Chirrut's probably listened to or read braille versions of every book that's ever been in here," Baze says.

"He's read almost all of them," Chirrut says diplomatically. Baze laughs. "That book," Chirrut says, pushing down on the counter to rise. "May have timely importance."

"Timely?" Rey echoes. One of the pages nicks her fingers. _Ouch_.

"It has a lot to say about families and love," Chirrut says.

Rey's phone buzzes. She pulls it out and reads.

"From Ben?" Finn asks.

"Mm-hm."

"Let me guess. _Rey, can you meet me for dinner tonight? I've got candles and non-alcoholic wine_ ," Finn mocks. "Don't look at me like that, Rey. Anyone who isn't—an idiot can see how he looks at you."

"I'm blind, and I can tell," Chirrut adds.

"You tried there, Finn," Baze says as Finn cringes.

Rey's face flames. "That's not what he said."

"Then what did he say?" Finn demands as she slaps the book down on the counter. He rings her up as Rey presses her lips together, refusing to answer.

"Smart girl," comments Baze.

Rey hands over her money. Finn winks as he gives her her change. "You wouldn't be upset, would you?" she finally asks.

"No," Finn answers. "So long as he treats you right." His eyes narrow. "So, was I right? Did he ask you to—"

"He said nothing about candles!" Rey hollers as she hauls herself out into the sweltering sunlight.

"Don't they remind you of a certain couple we know, Baze?" Chirrut asks, but Rey doesn't bother to stick around and find out.

* * *

"You're very lucky," Snoke tells him.

Ben nods, pushing his morning coffee away from him. The words from Hux's article niggle in the back of my mind. "I know."

"And now everyone thinks you're quite the hero," Snoke adds.

Ben shifts, his fingers pinching a pen and rolling it around between his fingers.

"Your parents must be proud."

"They are," Ben says, swallowing. Although Mom's leaving today, to spend the next week at the state capitol pushing some sort of legislation. When she comes back, Grandpa will be with her. "Although Rey could have saved herself."

"Really?" Snoke's eyebrows rise.

Ben nods. "She's actually quite a talented writer too—if you were looking for other interns—"

"She's from Jakku," Snoke cuts in. "I have two talented interns already. You're both enough as it is."

Hux snickers, and Ben contemplates getting up, calmly waltzing over to his desk, and shoving the pen directly into Hux's eye. It's not an unpleasant daydream.

Snoke heads to his office, and Ben ignores Hux. He's going out with the girl of his dreams tonight. And in the brief hour between his work and meeting up with Rey, he darts to the library, ready to pull old newspapers and scour them for any insight into his uncle's warped mind. _Why can't everything be digitalized yet?_ Later this week he'll go to the courthouse.

"Hey," says an unexpected voice behind him.

Ben jumps as he turns around to see Finn there. "Oh. Hey," he says.

"We can be friends, you know," Finn says. "If you want. And if you're nice to Rey. And Poe."

"Oh," Ben says again. "Okay."

Finn nods at the newspapers he's gathered. "Research for your job? You gonna be able to write a story?"

"Um—maybe," Ben says. "I'm hoping. What're you looking up?"

Finn shrugs. "Baze and Chirrut have a large collection of old newspapers that they frame. I'm—"

"Stealing for them?" Ben tries to joke, but it doesn't land.

Finn scowls. "No. I've just read some interesting stories about Darth Vader and want to find out more about that whole scandal. Something to do with the casino cheating people, and your grandfather and uncle helped take him down, right?"

"Bail Organa didn't have a whole lot to do with it, according to my mother," Ben says. "But yes." For whatever reason, he doesn't want to mention that he, too, is researching about Darth Vader, albeit with a slightly different angle. He makes a mental note to visit the Whills bookshop.

"Have fun tonight," Finn calls when Ben leaves. His phone dings and he sees a text from his Dad, in response to him saying that he's going out with Rey for dinner: _good for you, kid._

When he meets Rey in front of the restaurant, she takes his breath away. Dressed in a gray-blue sleeveless top and with her hair neatly pulled back, she looks nothing like the _white trash_ Hux said comes from Jakku.

"How was work?" Rey asks as they share an appetizer of calamari.

Ben shrugs. "It was."

"Do you even like it?" Rey asks, dipping a deep-fried piece of squid into the tomato sauce.

"Yes," he insists.

"Do you feel like you have to say that? Because you want to be a journalist?"

"Well—I want to be a journalist. And I know all this editing will help. Eventually," Ben says. "I'm just—lazy."

Rey cocks her head.

"What?"

"That's just not the word I would have chosen to describe you. Impatient fits better," she informs him, reaching for another piece.

" _He's going to be just like your father, Leia," Dad said as seven-year-old Ben lay down on his bed, nose throbbing from a fistfight he got in with another boy, after the other boy insisted Ben let him copy his math homework and Ben responded by giving him fake answers, erasing them and putting the correct ones only after the other boy had copied the wrong ones. "Not Bail. Anakin."_

" _He won't be, Han. You're always saying that."_

" _It's because you can see those same tendencies, too. Chewie sees them. Luke sees them."_

What tendencies? _Ben wondered, curled up. He didn't know much about Anakin Skywalker, only that he and some unnamed grandmother gave Uncle Luke and Mom up for adoption. But Dad was making it sound as if Anakin wasn't a kind person in a bad situation, like Uncle Luke told him, but a cruel one._

What kind of person doesn't want his children? _Ben thought, a pit in his stomach._

" _Your parents will be so ashamed of you!" his teacher had snarled after Ben brought a brick down on the other boy's head, when his nose was already streaming blood._

_He hoped he'd never have to find out._

"I bought you this," Rey says after dessert. She digs into her bag, pulling out a book and handing it to him. "Read this yet?"

"No," Ben says, reading the cover. "Thanks, Rey."

"Chirrut says it's interesting and _timely_. Whatever that means." Rey rolls her eyes. "The first line made me laugh."

Ben flips it open and snorts. "Are there really any happy families, though?"

"Are the Damerons happy?" Rey asks.

"Maybe," Ben allows. "I'll give them that."

"What's wrong with yours, exactly?" Rey asks.

He stops on the sidewalk. _What is wrong with them?_ His parents and uncle are successful, revered. They all say they love him.

_But they're just words._

Kind of ironic coming form a guy who wants to be a journalist.

"I feel—ignored," Ben says. Cars honk at each other, and tourists crowd in around them. His face flushes as he wonders how she'll respond to that, considering that she was literally abandoned. "Like I'm not as important as their work." _But this is the truth, dammit. That's how I feel._

"I don't know what I was less important than," Rey admits. "Only that I was less than."

He sighs, looking at her. _We're both so lonely, aren't we?_

She almost smiles, as if she heard him. She isn't condemning him, writing him off as a whiny brat, and something inside him cracks open. Warmth floods his chest. His fingers reach for hers, brushing her knuckles.

"Oh, my goodness, fancy running into you two!" gushes Threepio, appearing like a ghoul in front of them. Ben could shove him into oncoming traffic. "I was just passing by—on my way to your uncle's, Ben—"

"Hey, Threepio!" calls another familiar voice. _What is this?_ Ben wants to scream as Poe Dameron appears, a plastic bag in his grip. "I saw Luke and Artoo up ahead."

"Oh!" splutters Threepio. "Why, thank you." He trots off, and Poe shrugs at them.

"Thanks," Rey says. "Where're you off to?"

Ben really doesn't care where he's off to.

"Finn's coming over," Poe answers. "So I was just getting some—thing."

"I know what's in the brown paper bag, Poe. It doesn't take a genius," Ben says.

"Huh?" Rey frowns.

"Well, okay, maybe we're meeting at his place and then going to the boardwalk," Poe allows.

"He's got beer cans in the bag, Rey," Ben explains.

"Oh."

"It's just one each," Poe says defensively. "We're not looking to get plastered."

"You know I've never had a drink?" Rey asks.

Ben's taken aback. "Really?" He remembers spending New Year's getting plastered up in his room alone, yelling to his mom that he was fine, _fine_ , and just wanted to be alone. She spent the next morning clanging pans around. On purpose.

"I do have an ID," Poe says carefully. "If we call Finn—"

"Meet by the sand dunes?" Ben suggests. "Get her something she'll like, Poe."

"If her taste is _you_ , she'll like anything!" Poe hollers.

* * *

"Verdict?" Poe asks as he sprawls on the sand.

"I haven't been missing that much," Rey says, making a face as she holds the beer away from her. "It's bitter."

"It's not my favorite either," Finn agrees. "But not bad," he adds when he sees Poe wince.

The sun's long since vanished behind the ocean, and the alcohol fills Finn with a strange warmth. He leans back against the sand. "Sorry we broke up your date."

"You didn't," Rey answers. "You two just added onto it."

"You like your book, Ben?" Finn asks.

"Haven't started it yet, but it looks interesting," Ben says.

"How's yours going?" Poe questions, leaning closer. "The Brotehrs Karamazov?" Finn's stomach flutters.

 _What's going on?_ Finn's not used to feeling this way. He rubs his face. "Good. It's kind of wild. There's this father and son pair competing to marry the same girl, who's a total ho and playing both of them, and then this one really angry brother and a monk who's super nice to everyone and is basically the exact opposite of everyone else in his family."

"That sounds like a soap opera," Poe comments.

"Dad of the year award right there," Rey says sleepily, raising her beer to her lips. "Makes all of our complaints look mild."

Ben snorts.

"Hey kids," says a voice Finn recognizes. He leaps up and freezes, the alcohol stinging now and all the warmth vanished.

Baze Malbus crosses his arms, looking down on them.

"Um—" Rey starts, but Finn can't even think of what to say. What'll happen if Baze tells Jyn? And he's totally getting fired. _What was I thinking?_

"You might want to pack it up really quick," Baze says. "A tall girl on the boardwalk was about the get the police."

"For what?" Rey yelps.

"Underage drinking. I don't think your parents will be thrilled."

Finn lowers his head.

"Hurry," Baze hisses.

"Are you helping us?" Poe asks, aghast.

"You can thank Chirrut tomorrow for it, Finn," Baze says. "You didn't think I was going to fire you, did you?"

Rey, Poe, and Ben scramble, grabbing the cans and stuffing them back into the bag. Finn shakes his head.

"Look, I know I'm an old cynic," Baze says. "But you should have a little more faith in humanity. You're too young to think like that." He reaches out, as if he's going to grab Finn's shoulder, and then yanks it back. "Get going. I'll try to distract them. And if I ever catch you actually doing anything dangerous, don't expect the same treatment."

And there's a voice Finn recognizes. "There are teenagers here, I think, drinking. Being on the beach after hours and drinking—it's a recipe for a disaster," Phasma says in faux-concern.

 _That troll!_ Finn grits his teeth and scrambles through the sand. Poe grabs his arm as they dash towards the row of houses. A few shouts echo behind them, but Finn doesn't turns around.

"In here!" Poe skids into his door, which he hurriedly unlocks. They all scramble inside as Poe slams the door behind them.

A snort.

Finn turns to see Ben actually laughing, covering his face as chortles emerge. Rey joins in, and Poe—and all Finn can do is replay Baze's words, again and again.

_I'm okay._

And a laugh bursts from his mouth, too.

The light switches on. "What's in the bag, Poe?" asks Mrs. Dameron, crossing her arms.

"Shit," says Poe.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Twenty-four years ago** _

"Luke!" Leia cries out when he come through the door, the pulsating music and laughs of the party behind her. "I heard your bus tipped over getting here!"

"It's true," Luke confirms. His face is wrapped in gauze. Leia couldn't believe it when Threepio told her the news. She doesn't want anyone else she loves to die, or go away, and Luke could have been killed.

"And guess who rescued him while just so happened to be driving by?" Han asks.

"I know, you idiot, you're the one who called me from the hospital," Leia retorts, wrapping Luke up into a hug. She begged and begged Dad to let him visit this summer, and Luke worked on his aunt and uncle to get their permission. "Your face!"

"It's not that bad," Luke says, touching it. "Just some shattered glass."

Leia swallows. She spent all of this afternoon crying and wanting to cancel this party, but Threepio insisted it would be rude. "Hi, Chewie."

He waves.

"Glad to see you two haven't changed," Luke says with a wry smile.

"And the sexual tension, sadly, remains unresolved," Han says. Chewie groans, clapping his forehead.

"I don't know where you get your delusions, laser brain," Leia snaps, shaking her head. _I don't like him. I don't._

Luke, on the other hand—he's sweet. Innocent. "Have you heard from Obi-Wan?" she asks.

"I have," Luke confirms with a nod. "He's happy to hear that I'm visiting you all again."

"Even me?" Han asks, winking at Leia as he inches closer.

 _For Pete's sake!_ "You—you—scruffy looking nerfherder!" Leia grasps for the first insult she can come up with.

"Has he been like this all day?" Luke asks.

"Worse," Chewie confirms. "It's his probation ending shortly. He feels the great need to screw it up."

 _Huh?_ "Probation for what?" Leia demands. "You didn't tell me this, Han!" _Were you in trouble? Why didn't you trust me?_

His face flushes scarlet. "Cheating and illegal gambling at the casino. My friend Lando Calrissian and I got ourselves into kind of a pickle last winter."

"Han, I care about you, but you're stupid," Luke states, and wobbles.

 _Whatever_. Leia grasps his arms. "Come inside. If it's too loud, I can kick them out; I don't give a damn what Threepio says."

"You know, maybe I wouldn't have to turn to gambling if someone would give me a fair shake," Han snaps as he follows. Leia leads Luke up the hardwood stairs, into the living room, where she guides him onto the mahogany couch.

Leia bites her lip. "I'm sorry. I remember losing my mother—if I lost my father too—" She's not sure she's making any sense.

"Nah, you'd be fine," Han says as he takes a seat across from her, smiling as if he understands what she's trying to say despite her incoherence. "You're pretty strong."

Leia's stomach clenches. She manages a smile.

"I like the hair," Luke tells her.

"Thanks." She's trying to wear it in a braid wrapped around her head now. That way it's not in her way, and people—namely, Han—don't constantly make cinnamon roll jokes.

She glances out the window, towards where she knows the road stretches. Dad's not back yet. All that evidence from last summer did was get stupid Tarkin fired for corruption, but no one's in jail because it isn't complete.

"You aren't thinking of getting back involved with all the shenanigans of last summer, are you?" Luke asks.

Leia shrugs. "I don't like sitting here knowing that—"

"She's thinking of what it'd be like to kiss me," Han jokes, and that's one joke too many.

Leia leaps to her feet. "I'd rather kiss Chewie!" It's not true, it is true, she doesn't know.

"Really?" asks Chewie, eyes widening with either interest or revulsion, and Leia's not sure she wants to find out which.

"I can arrange that!" Han shouts, his finger inches from her face.

Fuming, Leia steps back. _I can't like you!_

But in truth, Han's the one who called her last year when she needed to talk.

Han smirks and leans towards Luke. "Must've hit pretty close to the mark to get her all riled up like that, huh?"

There's only one way to fix this. Leia glowers at him. "Well, I guess you don't know everything about women yet."" She leans down and grabs Luke's face, pressing her lips against his.

It's longer than it should be, because Leia's too angry to focus on anything other than spiting Han. When she pulls away, Han and Chewie are both gaping, as is Threepio.

 _Oh, shit_. If her father hears… And is that actual hurt flickering over Han's face, before his cocky mask replaces it?

 _You hurt me too. You should have listened to me,_ Leia thinks as she bites her lip, staring at him. And then because she can't take it anymore, she storms down the stairs towards the party.

_What have I done?_

_I'll figure it out,_ Leia tells herself. Because she can always figure it out. It's what her mother told her—there's always a way forward. Even if it's hard.

* * *

"Shit, Darth Vader again," Han grunts, grabbing Luke and hauling him into a restaurant. Leia and Chewie follow. "I hate that man. He's got it out for me, let me tell you."

"Along with who else?" Luke asks, raising an eyebrow. "Table for four, please."

"Jabba, who owns the casino," Chewie says.

"Give me a break," Han complains as the waitress leads them to a small booth tucked in the back of the place.

"You do realize we like your mischief, don't you?" Luke asks as he slides in.

"We do," Leia confirms. "Most of the time."

A grin spreads across Han's face.

"Don't you dare," Leia snaps. "It's not like that. I happen to like nice men."

"I'm a nice man."

Luke and Leia look at each other and both throw their heads back like twins, laughing.

"Okay," Han says as the waitress serves them iced waters. "Can you tell us all what exactly has been going on, Leia? Again?"

"Those letters were enough to prove that Tarkin and Krennic had been taking bribes from certain people, like this one man who was going to build a golf course, and using his influence to—"

"So dull, adult stuff," Han says.

"He was trying to set my father up to take the fall for it. He was a part of the deal, originally, to sell some of the Organa land—" Leia crosses her arms.

"Never mind, he's an asshole." Han gulps some water. Luke can only shake his head. Why would someone want to ruin a man's life like that? What kind of bitter, horrible person would you have to be?

"I don't think Tarkin and Krennic were acting alone," Leia says. "And don't accuse me of being paranoid, nerf-herder. Chief Palpatine is a terrible human being."

"I wouldn't," Han protests, looking actually insulted.

"What evidence do you have?" Luke asks.

"Nothing that would hold up in court," Leia says. "But no one tries to hurt my father and gets away with it."

Luke's mind spins. When they've eaten their fill of burgers and fries, Luke jogs to a pay phone and calls Obi-Wan.

"Luke, you shouldn't be getting involved with something like this," Obi-Wan tries to tell him.

"Really, Obi-Wan?" Luke asks, deflated. "I didn't expect you to say something like that." Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, maybe, but not Obi-Wan. He's so sick of living a safe, ordinary life.

"Well, I'm saying it." Obi-Wan's tone makes no apologies, and anger like Luke's seldom, if ever, felt before springs up, along with something that stings like tears.

"Fine then," he says stiffly, and hangs up. Almost the moment he does it he regrets it—Obi-Wan's got to be furious with him now. And if it weren't for Obi-Wan, he wouldn't even be here.

 _But isn't he Bail Organa's friend?_ Luke scowls as he kicks a rock in front of him. If Obi-Wan won't help, Luke still will. Leia is his friend. Bail's letting him stay over the summer.

"You know," Han says a few days later. "I could see if Lando Calrissian will talk to me."

"Did you stiff him a few bucks?" Luke groans as he pries himself off the couch he almost fell asleep on.

Chewie nods emphatically as Han shrugs. Leia rolls her eyes, sipping on her drink.

"Yeah, but he does some shady stuff for the casino. Don't look at me like that, Luke. You try living on your own when you're not even eighteen yet."

Leia's house phone rings, and she scrambles to answer. "Organa residence." She frowns. "Obi-Wan! How are you? I'm good; I'm good—yeah, no. Don't worry so much. We're not—okay, fine, he's right here." She holds out the receiver to Luke.

"Hello?" Luke asks as Han and Leia all crowd around him. He plants his hand on Han's forehead and pushes him back. "Would you let me breathe?" he hisses, covering the receiver.

They turn to bickering about whatever it is now, and Luke turns to the phone. "Obi-Wan?"

"Yes, hello, Luke." Obi-Wan clears his throat.

"I'm sorry I hung up on you," Luke mutters. He turns away from his friends so he won't see their expressions of shock.

"It's understandable. Luke—the truth is, Bail Organa has a history with Officer Vader. And Vader is Palpatine's pet project, more or less, so if Vader wants revenge on the man, it's hard to—"

Disbelief settles. "You can't suggesting we just stand by and let—"

"Of course I'm not, Luke," Obi-Wan cuts in.

There's a silence. Luke wipes his sweaty palm on his jeans. "What's their history?"

"Let's just say that Vader believes Bail did him a great disservice when he most needed help."

"Did he?" Luke can't help but ask.

"No. Bail wanted to help your father. He and Yoda worked with me to help Vader, but he doesn't see it that way."

"And my father?" Luke asks. "He would have been around then, wouldn't he?"

Obi-Wan inhales. "Yes, Luke, I believe Vader would have a grudge against your father too, if he was still alive. Unfortunately—"

"Yeah, I know, the car accident," Luke says glumly.

"Yes," Obi-Wan says slowly. "Anyways, Luke, I spoke to Yoda. He and I will do our own investigation. A good report might just break the story. But you, Leia, and Han have to remove yourselves, do you understand?"

Luke's heart starts beating. "Yes. I understand."

"Great." Obi-Wan sighs. "Good night, Luke."

"G'nite." Luke hangs up and turns to them.

"You know, I forget that you're adopted too sometimes," Leia says, rolling on her stomach.

"I'm not really adopted," Luke says. "Just raised by my aunt and uncle. They do act like parents though. I guess. I think." He frowns. "They still won't tell me anything about my father though. And they've never so much as mentioned my uncle."

"It's a lonely life," Han says. "What? Don't look at me like that. I do have a heart."

Leia inches closer to him, a strange look on her face. Something in Luke tells him to turn away, but he can't quite.

"Everyone okay here?" Threepio asks, tottering in. Artoo races in, landing on Luke and woofing.

"Everything's fine," Leia says as Han grumbles something that sounds an awful lot like _terrible_.

* * *

"Lando said to meet us at the Cloud City nightclub," Han reports. He watches Leia's face, and when it breaks into a smile, he relaxes. He can't stand seeing her so anxious about her father.

If there had been a way to save his parents, Han supposes, he'd do the same thing. Although, as Chewie doesn't hesitate to point out to him, he doesn't have the guts Leia has.

 _Luke really is a better fit._ Han tries to shrug it off.

"Luke and I don't have IDs," Leia points out.

"They don't check if you go in the back door, which is what we're doing," Han answers.

"You been there often?" Leia asks, studying her nails.

 _Are you jealous?_ "No," Han answers. "Well, maybe. It's a good distraction."

"From what?"

Han shrugs. He doesn't know how to tell Leia that he's several thousand dollars in debt to Jabba, because he wasted almost all of the money he made at a pizza joint trying to strike it rich, so he could stop living in his car and mooching off friends like Lando and Chewie. And maybe, just maybe, he'd entertained a fantasy or two or three about making enough money to afford college. He's pretty sure that would impress Leia's dad, although Bail Organa's been nothing but kind to him.

_I'm still just a street bum._

"How'd you and Lando meet?" Leia asks, clearly understanding that Han doesn't want to talk about it.

"I went to a party when I got here from Corellia back when I was fifteen," Han says. "Thought there'd be free food. And there was and it was awesome, and then Chewie and I ran because the cops found us and we didn't want to get caught. Chewie just didn't want it on his record and I didn't want to go back to foster care. He hurt his ankle; I helped him; Lando saw us and gave us a ride. And I later won my car off Lando in a game of cards." _That's where this laser-brain gets his delusions._

Luke groans. "Really, Han?"

"It serves me well," Han counters. He could sell it. He's thought of it, before. But he can't bring himself to. It's more of a home to him than anything else.

"You've been arrested since then," Leia points out.

"And I run away again and again. I'm not going back to Corellia. Ever."

"We should get ready," Luke says finally, and Han struggles to his feet. A glass candy bowl holds Junior Mints, and he grabs a few.

"What do I even wear to a club?' Luke wonders.

 _What's Leia going to wear?_ Han wonders as he drops onto the guest bed in the room Luke's staying in.

Within an hour, he finds out. A dark brown dress drapes over her thin frame, and a floaty white jacket. Her braids dangle from her head.

"You look—very nice," Han stammers. _Dammit._ He sucks at this. _What on earth are you supposed to say to a girl you love?  
_

 _She's right. I'm deluded._ She's beautiful and smart as a whip and passionate. He's just trying to survive.

Leia smiles. Chewie clears his throat. "Good luck." He's off to his night security guard job.

They arrive outside the club and Han checks his watch obsessively. 9:00 comes and passes.

"Where is he?" Leia hisses.

"I don't know." Han swallows. _Lando, don't let me down._ He won't be able to stand the disappointment in Leia's eyes if—

The door swings open. Han could punch Lando as he grins out at them, his eyes landing on Leia. "Why hello."

"You're late," Han says.

"I'm kind of in the middle of something," Lando says as he ushers them inside, slinging his arm around Han for a moment. Music pulsates, and the smell of alcohol permeates the humid air. Han rests his own arm on Leia's shoulders, and almost instantly realizes she might not like that.

But she doesn't throw him off, and shoots him a nod. Luke's eyes widen as he takes in the bustling dance floor, where twenty-somethings and teenagers grind against each other with not even an inch between them.

"Get something at the bar if you want," Lando hollers to be heard above the music. "I'll see you in like twenty minutes?"

Han nods. Leia groans, or at least Han thinks she does, but he can't hear her. "Drink?" he shouts into her ear.

Leia nods. Luke shakes his head when Han turns to him.

Han orders two screwdrivers and waits. He probably shouldn't be spending this kind of money, but hey, it's for Leia.

"You really think Lando will be able to help us?" Leia shouts as they take their drinks and move towards a corner. Luke motions to the bathroom and heads off.

"I don't know, but I hope so!" Han shouts as he takes a sip of the tangy liquid. It soothes him. But the music's too loud to talk, so Leia leans her head against his shoulder as they wait.

He's never had someone turn to him for comfort before. It may make his neck ache but he will not move this shoulder even an inch. He and Leia both concentrate on their drinks, and Han wishes and wishes.

_Lando, you're taking an awfully long time._

And then Leia tilts her head up to look at him. "Thanks for trying!" she yells.

Han drops his face closer. Her breath hits him, warm and scented with vodka. Her lips part slightly, and she isn't pulling away.

And Han presses his lips against hers, and she's kissing him back, her mouth pulling his deeper, and then—

"Break it up," comes a husky voice that Han recognizes from his nightmares.

"Drinking?" Vader asks, nodding at the glasses in their hands. "I think it's time we all took a trip to the police station."

Han catches sight of Luke coming out of the restroom. Han glares at him. _Get lost, kid!_

Luke scrambles for the back door. Vader narrows his eyes and produces handcuffs from his belt.

"Don't you think this is overkill?" Leia demands. "My father will—"

" _Bail_ you out?" Vader snorts.

Leia does not look as if she appreciates the pun.

Vader nods at Han. "I don't think this one will be so lucky, though. Considering he's already on probation and a runaway times, what is it, five now?"

Han swallows. Vader jabs his hands into Han's pockets. "Oh, come on," he complains. "This is—"

"What's this?" Vader demands, pulling out a small bag of white powder. Han's jaw drops, and his eyes swivel to Leia's.

"That's not—I've never seen—"

"You've never seen it before? Why do I find that hard to believe?"

Leia shakes her head, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.

 _Lando_. Han spots the bastard behind Leia, a cringe on his face. "You son of a—"

Another cop, badge reading Officer Fett, comes forward and grabs Leia's arms. She yelps.

"Let her go!" Han shouts as patrons stop and stare. Humiliation crawls up his spine, wrapping around him and squeezing the breath from his lungs.

"Drinking's still an offense, although nothing like this," Vader says in satisfaction.

"I had nothing to do with—" Han tries, but what's the use? What's the _use?_ No one will—

"Han!" Leia yells as Officer Fett drags her towards the door.

He looks at her, and he sees it in her eyes. You believe me.

"I love you," she chokes out.

 _I love you too_. But he can hear the terror in her voice, the fear that, just like her mother, hell be gone and there will be things left unsaid, doubts that linger and poison the best memories.

"I know," he says.

* * *

"I know you're out here, Skywalker."

Luke presses himself against the brick side of the building, gulping the wet air. _Han and Leia are…_

"If you pass a breathalyzer, you get to go home."

 _Go to hell,_ Luke thinks furiously.

"Aren't you wondering how I know your name?"

 _Not really._ Luke just wants to get out of there. _You're insane!_

Vader rounds the corner, and Luke leaps away from the wall, backing up.

"Tread carefully, _Skywalker_. Running away from a cop is a—"

"How about setting a kid up?" Luke retorts. "You and I both know Han wouldn't—"

"I don't want to arrest you."

"Bullshit!" Luke spits out.

"I see Obi-Wan's been poisoning you against me."

"You did a great job of that yourself, when you hurt my friends!" Luke takes a few more steps back. "You hurt Han and Leia, Bail Organa, Obi-Wan and I bet that's not even half, is it, Vader?" He glares at the man, the ghastly streetlights casting him in shadows. _You're a sick human being._

"Did Obi-Wan tell you about your father?" Vader asks, voice suddenly low and angry as he advances.

"Yes," Luke snaps. "You hurt him, too, before he died and—"

"No. _I_ am your father."

Luke freezes. Everything dulls—the murder of other voices, the lights, the groaning music from the club. All he can hear are his own breaths. He tries to speak, but he can't.

" _Vader and your father did not get along," Obi-Wan said._

" _Your father was a good friend of mine."_

" _Vader ruined him."_

" _Can't you see?" Leia cried one night. "He'll ruin my father like he ruined yours!"_

"No," Luke chokes out. "No, that's not true— _that's impossible!"_

"Is it, Luke?" Vader takes another step towards him.

Hearing his name from the mouth of this hideous man cuts through Luke's abdomen like a knife. "No—no!" he screams.

"Luke—"

But Luke turns on his heel, taking off down the street. Screw the law. Screw Vader. He has to get out of here.

_I am your father._

The words chase him.

* * *

"Are you sure?" Leia asks, tears streaming down her face. Shadows swell under her eyes after her few hours in jail.

"I have to," Luke says, shoving clothes into his duffel bag. "You and your dad have enough to deal with."

 _What would you say if you knew that I'm his son?_ Vader didn't follow him, but he will if Luke stays. Luke knows it. And he doesn't think he can handle it if Leia looks at him knowing he has the blood of that cruel, pathetic monster.

He wraps her in a hug, and takes off for the bus station before the sun fully breaks through the sky.

"Luke!"

He turns to see Lando Calrissian jogging up to him. Panic shoots through him. "Get the—"

"I'm sorry, okay?" Lando cries out. "He said if I did it—he'd expunge my record and I—I want to be a pilot, I want to—Luke!"

"If you really regret it," Luke snaps, watching the bus approach. "You'll make it right. Other than that it's just excuses, and all your bad feelings don't justify you. Talk to Chewie or Leia. I'm not interested."

"But—"

The bus arrives, and Luke sprints towards it. For the first time, he's looking forward to going back to Tatooine.

Luke spreads his hands in front of him as the bus begins rolling out of Yavin. _Am I? Is he?_

_What can I possibly do?_


	12. Chapter 12

"You don't have to say anything," Ben snaps the next morning as he flops onto the couch. Man, it's amazing how he can go from hero to delinquent so fast.

"Ben," Dad tries as he comes into the living room, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee. "I'm not mad so much as I'm—"

"Disappointed? Nice try." Ben rolls his eyes.

 _Obi-Wan grounded me,_ Rey texts. _:(_

"No, worried, Ben." Dad marches over to him. "Here." He thrusts the coffee out in front of him.

"Huh?" Ben asks.

"Drink it. I made it for you."

"I had like two drinks. I'm not hungover."

"I know. I just thought you might like some." Dad appears almost at a loss. The sun hits his gray hair, illuminating the lines of creasing his face.

"Oh." Ben reaches out to take the coffee. It's made with more cream and sugar than Ben would normally put in. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Dad heaves himself onto the couch next to him. "You know, Ben, I was talking to your mother—"

"Oh good, you still do that," Ben snips.

"Ben!" Dad rolls his eyes. "Your mother and I love each other, for all of our flaws."

Hearing him say those words sets relief flooding through Ben. He nods, sipping the warm coffee. He curls his knees to his chest.

"Anyways, I told your mother what happened. And told her not to text you, that I would talk to you." Dad clears his throat. "You know, Ben, that I—"

"Please tell me you are not trying to have _the talk_ with me."

Dad's lips curl in disgust. "No. Ben. For once could you just—listen to me? For five minutes? That's all I ask."

Ben drinks more coffee, waiting.

"Look," Dad says. "I just—you know I made a lot of mistakes when I was around your age, okay? I ran away and lived in my car or at Chewie's. And I broke the law a fair amount of the time. I just want you to—"

"Not be like you?" Ben cuts in, heart pounding.

"Well, in that way—in others I have to admit I wouldn't mind, but—"

"It figures," Ben says, trying to drown the shame welling up inside him and that horrible thought that will never, ever leave his mind: _I'm a bad person_. "Just because I mess up once—"

"I think you're misunderstanding me, kid—"

"No matter what I do," Ben fires back. "You'll always expect the worst of me, won't you? You'll always—"

"Ben, I don't even know where you're getting this from!" Dad shouts. "I'm trying to tell you, Ben, that I've done things that I'm ashamed of, and I don't want—" He sucks in his breath, face red.

"I'm not a runaway! I'm _not_ like you, and I don't want to be!" Ben slams his mug down on the coffee table. He storms towards the stairs. When he reaches, he stops to turn around, and sees Dad with his head pressed against his knees, arms wrapped around his knees and shoulders shaking.

 _What did I just say_? Ben opens his mouth, an apology climbing inside him.

But his tongue won't move. Instead he just stands there, frozen.

Dad lifts his head and catches sight of Ben, and that cuts the ropes. Ben flees up the stairs and to his room, where he throws himself on his bed, trying to stop shaking. He has to leave in ten minutes.

When he leaves, Dad doesn't even call goodbye.

* * *

"I'm not mad exactly," Obi-Wan says. "It's just not behavior I want to encourage."

 _Like car stealing?_ She knows that's the incident echoing in his memories. _You try my life, Obi-Wan. Try trying to survive when no one gives a damn._

Rey grabs a book and a piece of fruit, and stalks outside. For once, it appears Finn's gotten the best shake of them all. Maz shook her head and said nothing, and apparently hasn't informed Jyn Erso, and Baze and Chirrut simply shrugged when he told them they'd been caught after all and told him he was lucky it was them and Mr. Dameron who found them.

Ben hasn't responded to her texts. Rey frowns and bites into an apple, sitting on the steps of the back porch as she reads.

A woof, and Rey's neck snaps up. Beebee-Ate?

A fluffy gray and white dog charges towards her. Rey laughs and drops her book. "Where'd you come from?"

"My apologies," comes a voice Rey doesn't recognize. "Artoo, come here."

"'S okay," Rey says. "I like animals." She peers up to see an older man, around Obi-Wan's age and horribly scarred, starring at her. "Oh. Hi. I'm Rey—"

"Obi-Wan's granddaughter," says the man with a nod. "I know. He's glad you're here, you know."

Rey blinks. "Maybe." She continues stroking Artoo.

"I know he is. Even if he's strict. I assure you it's not just you he's been strict with."

"Do you mean my mom?" Rey asks, blinking.

The man frowns. "I don't know about your mother. I'm sorry. But he practically raised me."

The implication slams into Rey's stomach. For all the times she's caught glimpses of the man, she's never seen him up close. "You're Darth Vader!"

He winces, and Rey can tell that without his scars, he would have been handsome. "That's what everyone knows me as."

"Is Artoo your dog?" Rey asks.

"He's Luke's," Vader says. "He's the third Artoo I've known, I might add."

Rey presses her face into the dog's fur. "How come I don't see you very much?"

"Not many people like to see me. For good reason," the man adds wistfully, squinting up at the sun. A bird chirps nearby. "And you're usually gone, I've noticed."

"I have some friends. Finn, and Poe Dameron, and Ben Solo."

Vader flinches at her words, but she can't figure out how she hurt him. "I hear from Luke that you're a writer."

"Oh," Rey says. "He talked about my writing? I mean, yes, I am."

He laughs. "Well, Luke thinks you're a good one." There's an almost paternal note to his voice when he mentions Luke. Rey frowns.

"I'm home today because I got caught drinking last night," Rey admits.

"Obi-Wan never really drank," Vader tells her. "I'm not surprised. Luke wasn't one for it, either."

"And you?"

Vader smiles, and despite his scars or maybe because of them, it's kind. "Don't waste much time feeling guilty, Rey. It doesn't fix anything, not even. Apologies and changed actions fix things, but only sometimes. It's something I've learned the hard way."

"Are you talking about Luke?"

"And Obi-Wan," Vader allows. "It'll be okay, Rey. You don't have much to prove with him, you know. He loves you anyways. I think you're like a fresh start for him."

 _Huh?_ Rey blinks. _A fresh start from what, you?_

 _He practically raised me._ And from what she's heard, Vader grew up to be a horrible creature, someone Leia Organa still despises. _What was it like with my mother?_

 _Did you even raise her?_ Rey wonders, looking back towards the darkened windows of Obi-Wan's small house. Her house. _You feel as if you failed her, too, don't you?_

"How did you and Luke become so close?" Rey asks. "People whisper about it, you know. My friend—actually, we're kind of dating—well, last night was a date—Ben Solo—he's always wondered. But he says he's barely met you."

Vader's quiet. "Luke and I reached an understanding. You're dating Ben, you say? Is he well?"

Rey blinks. _Why does this matter to you?  
_

"Hey, Dad!" calls Luke, bursting out his backdoor. Artoo scampers towards him.

_Oh, shit._

Rey gapes at Vader, who cringes. Luke skids to a stop at the sight of Rey.

"Um, what?" she ekes out, as Vader's eyes fill with tears.

* * *

_**Forty years ago** _

"Yes, I know about the armored truck," Obi-Wan says in exasperation, rolling his eyes at the radio sitting on his table.

"Trouble, _Officer_ Kenobi?" Anakin asks, striding into the room. The past year flew by, more so than other years, because Padmé came to visit three times. Her parents are coming around, and Anakin holds out hope that they will welcome him once again like they did when he was ten years old.

"Nothing to worry about," Obi-Wan says absently. "Just arranging things with Bail Organa about a shipment getting to that new casino, from the bank." He sighs.

"You still don't approve," Anakin says.

"I think most of the people wasting their fortunes in there need to go home and rethink their lives," Obi-Wan replies, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Palpatine says otherwise, Anakin thinks. He says it'll bring good revenue into the town. Of course, Mace says Palpatine just says that because he's invested in it.

"Padmé gets here today?" Obi-Wan asks.

"Yes," Anakin answers with a smile. It's been two months since he last saw her, although she's written, saying she has something exciting to share.

When she visits, Mace clears a guest room for her. He and Obi-Wan haven't noticed that Anakin's room is usually empty.

Obi-Wan leaves for his new job, and Anakin paces, waiting for the moment the doorbell rings. When it does, he levitates towards the door, flinging it open and grabbing her, twirling Padmé around. She presses her lips against his and then buries her face into his shoulder.

"Are you all right?" he asks, closing the door behind them. No. "You're trembling. What's wrong?" He rests his hands on her shoulders. _No matter what it is, I'll help you fix it, Padmé_.

"Ani," Padmé says, her brown eyes searching his as if she's afraid.

_Of what?_

"I'm pregnant."

The words send shock coursing through Anakin, and all he sees is his mother, and his unnamed, blank space of a father, and the fear in Padmé's eyes suddenly looks so much more familiar.

"What are we gonna do?" she whispers.

"Are you sure?"

She nods, swallowing.

"Do you—" Anakin rubs the back of his skull. _What do I want?_ "Do you want to—"

"I want to keep it, Ani," she says, her eyes filling with tears.

 _Me, too,_ Anakin realizes. "Don't worry," he tells her, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms as tight as he can around her, because she needs to know he's not that no-name father: he will never leave her; he'll love her, love their child. "We'll make it. We'll figure it out. I promise you."

* * *

"Mother's not suspicious yet, but she will be soon," Padmé says as she bites into a burger. "I'm pretty sure Threepio already is. I can't keep taking Artoo for early morning walks so I can throw up." Tears blur her vision, and she blinks them back.

_It's all gone._

College, a career as a senator. Her hand drops to her abdomen, and she presses it slightly. By the time they leave Yavin at the end of the summer, she'll be at least four months along and showing.

"None of it's gone," Anakin says as she tells him that.

"Ani, we won't have money. My parents will be—"

" _None of it's gone_. You'll see. I'm going to marry you, Padmé, and give you and our child a good life. I promise you."

"Oh, are you?" a voice interrupts. Padmé jumps, her hands flying to her face. _No!_

Chief Palpatine leers over their table. "You two make a lovely couple."

Padmé's cheeks flame. She wants to melt. Surely he'll tell—

"Your secret is safe with me, Miss Amidala," he tells her. "And Anakin, I hope you both know I'll help you in any way I can."

 _Really?_ Padmé's jaw drops. She's never liked Palpatine much, but right now, she could hug him.

* * *

"I don't know what your options are, Anakin, and as the chief of police, I'm afraid I can't recommend the most likely-to-succeed options to you," Palpatine says apologetically.

 _What are you saying?_ Anakin clutches his skull. "But—"

"Ask the Amidalas for help. Or Yoda, or Mace."

"Yoda has little money to spare," Anakin says glumly. "And Mace wouldn't help us. He'll be furious that I knocked Padmé up."

Palpatine arches an eyebrow. "Are you sure that Yoda has no money?"

"Even if he does, he's more of a stickler than Mace. I can hear him now—irresponsible—just like everyone always thought you'd be—good thing your mother's not around to see this—"

Palpatine leans across his desk. An elaborately carved bookcase stands behind him, and a fancy telephone rings on its own stand directly under a diamond-shaped window. Palpatine ignores it, focusing on Anakin. "They'd truly say that?"

"Well—" Anakin swallows. "No. They'd never say it. But they'd think it." He thinks, anyways.

"Well," says Palpatine. "There is someone you might talk to, who could consider helping you. But it's risky, and you'd be—"

"I'd do anything for Padmé," Anakin says. " _Anything_."

* * *

Jango Fett is a buffoon, and his son, Boba, sits silently and stares at Anakin in a way that makes him feel as if his eyes go under Anakin's skin.

 _Palpatine knows about this?_ Anakin wonders. _How?_ "This will never succeed—the truck's too well armed!"

He should go to Mace and tell him. He really should. Especially if Palpatine's involved—between Mace's and Yoda's connections, they'd be able to take him down. And if they're grateful to him— _maybe this is what Palpatine really meant?_

_But then why would he wait on this news? It can't all be for me. Nothing's ever all for me._

"It's up to you," Jango says. "But you'll have to let us know if you're with us or not."

_If I don't take very much of it…_

_Just enough to help Padmé._

* * *

Handcuffs dig into his wrists as Anakin lies facedown in the dirt. He hears moaning from Mace Windu, from where Anakin hit him in the head with a rock.

 _He wasn't supposed to be here._ Tears leak from Anakin's eyes as he spits out dirt and sand. His cheek burns from where he slammed into the ground, and nausea steals his voice.

_This can't be happening._

"Someone get them out of here," says Bail Organa. A Good Samaritan who just happened to be walking by when he heard Mace scream.

A hand grips his hair, yanking his head up as he's forced to his feet. Anakin grits his teeth to keep from crying out.

And then Mace staggers by and freezes, gaping at Anakin. _He knows._

_I hit him._

_I'm not a monster!_ Anakin wants to scream as Mace's eyes narrow. _But you always thought I was, didn't you? You always thought I could be._

Anakin drops his eyes, refusing to look at him.

* * *

"You're—you're wrong!" Padmé cries. "How could you even say that?" She gapes at Obi-Wan Kenobi, dressed in his stiff blue uniform, telling her something that has to be complete bullshit because it just _has_ to. It doesn't make any sense. "Not Anakin. He couldn't."

He swallows, their living room deserted. One light glows in the corner, a small lamp. Padmé clutches her stomach. Mother and Father have gone out tonight, and then they'll be home and—and—

_What's left?_

"Padmé," Obi-Wan says reluctantly. "We caught him in the act—some think you may be involved too—"

"I don't believe you!" Padmé shouts, her chest heaving. "I'm not—he's not—I don't believe you!" Her legs grow weak as she pictures the baby inside herm the baby she still hasn't felt move. She stumbles, and Obi-Wan grabs her before she falls.

"Sit down," Obi-Wan orders, pushing her onto the leather couch.

"I don't believe you," she repeats, every inch of her shaking. "I can't." It comes out a broken sob.

Obi-Wan's watching her, but she can't look at him. Her stomach heaves, and Padmé leaps to her feet, darting into the bathroom, where she vomits and vomits. From fear or from her baby? She doesn't know.

 _Please tell me you weren't that desperate, Anakin. If you did this for me—you—how could you?_ She gasps, cold tears running down her face.

"Anakin is the father, isn't he?"

Padmé turns to face him, still crumpled on the ground. "How did you—"

"I'm so sorry," Obi-Wan tells her, with what seems like genuine sorrow in his voice.

Padmé cries.

* * *

Obi-Wan hates this.

The sight of Anakin, curled up against the wall in jail, hits him like a blow to the chest. _This is real_. "Anakin."

Anakin doesn't respond.

"Look at me," Obi-Wan orders.

" _Nice one," Palpatine told him, snorting. "You had a criminal living under your roof and you didn't even notice. I should fire you."_

But Obi-Wan thinks it far more likely he'll resign. "Yoda and Mace will—they're going to help you."

Anakin lets out a harsh laugh. "Help me? They've never helped me." He finally faces Obi-Wan, and there's something Obi-Wan's never noticed in his eyes—true hatred.

"Do you have any idea how much—"

"What? Money you spent on me? I never needed money, and you're an imbecile for not realizing that."

Obi-Wan flinches. "What were you even planning on telling her about where you got the money?"

Anakin's shoulders stiffen. Obi-Wan sighs. "Yes, Anakin, I know. You could have asked for help. I was going to help you. I heard you and I—"

"Help accompanied by a long lecture isn't help."

"You're full of it, Anakin." Obi-Wan clenches his fists. "You were my _brother_ , Anakin."

For a moment he thinks maybe he's gotten through, but Anakin's eyes just glaze over again. "I _hate_ you."

* * *

_You were my brother, Anakin._

A lie.

Yoda did procure him an easy plea bargain, but Padmé's already gone, and he's forbidden to contact her as part of the bargain. She's probably already lost the baby, or been forced to terminate it.

_I lost everything._

"You know," Palpatine says. "Yoda and Mace have left town."

"I know."

"I have a spare room," Palpatine says. "With this plea bargain, if you stay out of trouble, your records will be wiped, you know. I'd still hire you if you wanted to become a cop."

* * *

_**Present day** _

"Shit," Ben says out loud on his lunch break as he reads Rey's text.

_Vader is Anakin Skywalker?_

_Vader is my grandfather?_

His hands shake as he remembers how his mother doesn't like to talk about Vader, how Luke changed the topic—how he overheard Dad once saying he was afraid Ben would be like Vader. The newspaper stories he's read flip through his mind, one right after the other.

_You think I could be a criminal?_

Ben stumbles back into his office, relieved to find that Hux isn't there. He drops into his chair, covering his face and trying to breathe, to calm down.

"Ben," comes a voice, and he jumps, craning his neck to look up.

"What's wrong?" Snoke asks.


	13. Chapter 13

"That's crazy," Rey says.

Ben paces his room, phone pressed against his ear. "I can't believe—why wouldn't they tell me this?"

"I have no idea," Rey says. "I was talking to Finn, and he said maybe they wanted to protect you for some—"

Ben scoffs. "That's what Snoke said too."

" _I'm sure they didn't mean anything by it," Snoke told him, offering him a cup of coffee. "Parents often underestimate how much their kids can handle."_

"But she told me to stay away from him," Ben adds, curling his fists. " _Why?"_ Whips of anger lash at him.

" _You knew, though?" Ben cried out to Snoke._

" _Ben, I thought you would know. You're obvious very capable of handling—"_

"Because of his reputation?" Rey offers.

"My mom is many things, but she is not a snob, Rey." Ben presses his forehead against the glass of his window, feeling the lingering heat from the late afternoon sun.

"That's not what I meant," Rey snaps. "Maybe she still thinks he's dangerous."

"Do _you_ think so?"

Rey pauses. "No. He was quite kind to me today."

Ben shakes his head, even though Rey can't see him. "She hasn't just been lying to me. They—they've all been lying to the people they serve. My mother's a senator, and my father—"

"It's unfair to judge someone based on what their parents are," Rey snaps. "Ask me how I know. My parents left me, for—I don't even know what, since Obi-wan won't tell me."

Ben squeezes his free fist, remembering back to when he was caught in a lie last fall—he said he was working after school for the paper, and in reality he'd finally accepted an invitation to go to a party. He came home with his head floating and reeking of pot. The next morning he woke up to Mom banging around the kitchen, louder than usual on purpose, and Dad came in to check on him.

" _Don't ever lie to me again, kid," Dad told him, jabbing his finger at Ben._

"Hypocrite," Ben mutters.

"Huh?"

"Not you." Ben's temples pound. He's so sick of this. He's always felt the pressure to be perfect, to live up to the impossibly high standards of the offspring of a senator and a successful businessman, the nephew of a Pulitzer-prize winning journalist.

_You're a failure._

He's known it for a while. That's why he went to that party in the first place—not to socialize, but to do something to forget about how hard he worked for no results. And still, his failures cut at him like razor blades, leaving him bleeding out with blood no one can see.

_Help me._

He'll never say it. Luke Skywalker wouldn't have asked for help. His mother wouldn't have. His father never does.

_I'm just not cut out to make it._

"Ben?" Rey prompts. "What—"

"I have to go, Rey," he says quickly, hanging up before she can say anything else. His fist flies out, slamming into the wall. It doesn't even hurt satisfactorily. He slams it again and again, until the plaster chips and his knuckles ache and ooze blood.

At least he can see it.

* * *

"Let me see your hand," Snoke snaps.

"Huh?" Ben's been typing at his desk with only one hand all morning. He claimed a headache and spent the night in his room, refusing to see that liar. And when his mother comes back, with his fake grandfather…

"Your hand," Snoke orders. Hux sits up with interest. Ben scowls at him."You're lucky it isn't broken."

Shame floods Ben's face. He rubs it.

"Let's talk," Snoke says, tipping his head towards his office. Ben stumbles after him, his stomach burning. Maybe it's just from the coffee. But he knows it's from the fear that Snoke's about to fire him. He doesn't need a mental case working for him.

"You know," Snoke says. "You might consider talking to them—"

"What, so they can tell me more lies?" Ben demands. He's going to get fired, so what the hell does it matter? "I don't _trust_ them."

"Hm." Snoke lowers himself into his chair. It creaks. "Why not ask Vader himself?"

Ben swallows. _You're not yelling at me?_

"Well?" Snoke prompts.

"Does he still go by that name?"

"No," Snoke confirms. "Everyone loathes Darth Vader."

Ben clenches his fists. The injured one throbs. "Did he really do what my mother says—"

"He did indeed attempt to bring down Bail Organa," Snoke affirms. "However, his reasoning was not entirely unsound."

 _What?_ Ben blinks.

"Have a seat, Ben," Snoke invites. "You see…" He leans across the desk, gripping his armrests. "Vader had more than a legitimate reason to hate Bail Organa. He helped steal your mother and your uncle away from him, and helped trick your grandmother, Padmé Amidala, into leaving him."

* * *

"I wonder if she's still alive," Finn muses.

Rey leans over the counter in the bookshop, her heart hammering. _Is she?_

"You'd think she would have contacted—" Poe starts, skin flushed and glistening with sunblock from his time lifeguarding the beach.

"Maybe not," Rey snaps.

"But if she wanted to find him or her children—"

" _Maybe not,"_ Rey repeats, gripping the edge of the counter so tightly the wood digs into her palms. "Maybe—maybe she tried but couldn't find—he was living under a different name—maybe she really does love them, but is afraid of what they'd think of her, when really they'd still love her, or—" Her mind swims.

" _Come back!"_

" _Stay right here! I'll come back for you!"_

Finn studies her with a strange look on his face. _Surely you've wondered too, haven't you?_

Poe bites his lip.

"We could look through records," Rey suggests.

"Be careful, Rey Kenobi," says a voice from behind her. She jumps and turns around to see Chirrut, cane in his hand, wearing a soft smile.

"Oh," she stammers. "I—"

"We heard," grumbles Baze as he lugs a box of books into the shop. Finn darts out to help him.

 _Are you going to tell?_ Somehow Rey doubts Obi-wan would be thrilled with this plan. Come to think of it, Luke might not be either.

"When you dig up the past," Chirrut says. "You tend to find unexpected things. It's good to make sure you're properly prepared."

 _Huh?_ Rey frowns.

"The past is seldom as simple as our memories pretend it is," Chirrut says. "And if you're going to probe old scars, expect people to bite back."

Rey nods, although she doesn't entirely understand. The blind man and his husband turn back to the books.

"I'll go to the library," Rey decides. Since Obi-wan still doesn't have wifi, although he's promised to get it before school begins. "Comb through old records that are publically available—the internet—"

"But Rey," Finn protests as he shelves several shiny new books. "You haven't exactly had much luck looking for your parents. I know you must have searched for them."

It stings more than Finn meant it too. Rey shakes her head. "So? Maybe Padmé left more of a trail—"

"And you think Vader wouldn't have contacted her if—"

Poe's eyes dart nervously back and forth between them.

Rey's voice cracks. "Maybe he was ashamed. Or maybe—technology's advanced so much—"

"Or maybe she just doesn't want to be found," Finn says, voice quiet as if he knows this is about far more than Padmé Amidala.

"I won't know unless I try," Rey says, squaring her shoulders. Her chest aches, as if there's a lump someone has sewn in there, roughly, terribly, with all kinds of uneven stitches.

Finn presses his lips together.

"Why won't you help?" she asks. _Don't you wonder? How can you not? How can you not care?_

"Like Chirrut says," Finn tells her as he heads back to the cardboard box of books. "Be careful."

Tears burn Rey's eyes. _Finn!_ She glances to Poe, who studies his shoes.

 _Fine then._ Rey turns on her heels and stalks out. At least Ben will listen. She hopes.

She just wants to ensure a happy ending for _someone_.

* * *

"So you're telling me," Ben says as he flexes his fingers. "That Vader and Palpatine weren't entirely in the wrong?"

"Well, technically they were violating the law," Snoke says. "Turning a blind eye to casinos cheating people isn't what they were supposed to do as cops. However—if it was taking power away from the rich families who cared so much about nothing more than their own reputations, even at the expense of hurting a boy like Anakin—it's understandable, isn't it?"

 _More than understandable_.

_Be perfect. Live up to these standards, which are set so high that you'll break your leg trying to leap over them._

He knows it so well. The cruelty of never being _enough_ —it clings to his throat, scrapes it raw.

_And my parents willingly participate in this bullshit!_

"As for Vader's attempts to set up your grandfather—"

"He's not my grandfather," Ben interjects.

Snoke's eyebrows rise up—or, what's left of them. Not for the first time, Ben wonders how Snoke got so injured. _I bet the perfect rich families can't stand him either, simply because he looks like a monster._ "Well, again, he truly believed Bail Organa was involved for part of it. At least that's what Palpatine insisted before he was arrested. Now, of course he should have waited for real evidence, but given his history with Bail, he—"

"Did he know my mother was his daughter?" Ben interrupts. His fingers twitch around the mug of coffee, his fourth of the day.

Snoke leans forward. "No. Not until he'd been arrested. He found out in prison when Luke told him."

"And Luke still—"

"Your mother never wanted to visit him," Snoke cuts in. "Luke never pressed, either. Your uncle's brilliant, but misguided as well, Ben. He can't see the real issues Vader was trying to address, however misguided his approach may have been. Your uncle's just fine with the _system_ , as it is."

 _Well, I'm not_. "But he lives with him, so—"

"I think Vader was desperate enough to have someone stick by him that he would have said anything," Snoke says. "He's completely repented. Whether or not he still holds those ideals, I have no way of knowing. He's isolated himself and refuses to talk to me. Likely because he doesn't want to alienate his son as he has his daughter." Snoke takes a sip of coffee. "But, if anything, I'd bet there's a part of him that's angrier than ever. Bail Organa's deception led to him hurting his own daughter unknowingly. If—"

"It's not right," Ben spits, the bitter aftertaste of coffee stinging his throat. "It's not fair."

"I agree," Snoke says, the late afternoon sunlight filtering in through the window behind him and casting him in shadow.

"About the only way things will change around here," Snoke muses. "Is if the truth about what Obi-wan Kenobi and Bail Organa did to Vader."

"Why haven't you written about it before?" Ben asks.

Snoke smiles, revealing his broken teeth. "I've been waiting for the right time."

"Waiting?" Disappointment surges. "But then you're no better than—"

"Are you suggesting now is the right time?"

Ben blinks. _Are you asking_ me?

_You care for my opinion?_

_You don't think I'm useless?_

"Yes," Ben says, clearing his throat. "Yes, I do."

"Well," Snoke says, letting out a deep sigh. "I'd appreciate your help in writing the article then, Ben."

He thinks of Mom and Dad, and Uncle Luke. _Screw all of you_. _You're liars and you've been manipulated, and now you're manipulating me!_

"If I may offer some advice," Snoke adds.

 _He's offering to let me help write an article,_ Ben realizes. _Write. An Article._ Exhilaration spreads.

"You may want to choose a pen name," Snoke finishes.

* * *

"I don't know what to do with her, Mace," Rey overhears her grandfather whispering.

It's the middle of the night, and Rey's been tossing and turning. Her search for Padmé is running into walls, and Finn still won't help her, and Ben's been distant too. _I guess he got sick of me too._

Her throat parched, Rey pauses outside the kitchen. She can't go in there. She pictures Obi-Wan sitting there, talking to his friend and having a staring contest with that photograph she knows now is young Anakin and young Padmé.

"She's so smart," Obi-wan says. "So talented. But I'm too old, Mace, and I don't know how to talk to her."

Tears burn in Rey's eyes. _You don't have to find a way to talk to me. Just talk to me, because you're here and no one else ever has been!_

_Are you going to get rid of me too?_

"That's what Luke says," Obi-wan says.

Rey peers out the window lining the hallway, a tiny square that reveals the black figure of an overgrown tree and a small patch of star-studded sky. She presses the back of her hand against her mouth. Her chest heaves.

"I'm worried the incident with the alcohol is the only one she's been caught with," Obi-wan says. "And that she might—"

But this Mace, whoever he is, cuts Obi-wan off. Rey's legs shake. _Why? Why? What have I ever done?_

"No, no," Obi-wan says. "She's a good kid. I can tell. She has so much potential; there's just always the risk—"

The tightness in Rey's chest lessens. She inhales, as quietly as she can.

"I don't know how to do it," Obi-wan says. "I failed, Mace. We both did. And yes, I know things were different with Luke, but he wasn't mine—it doesn't matter how I viewed him, he still wasn't—"

 _How did you fail? With my mother?_ Rey wonders. _Who was she?_ She could scream, pound her fists. _Tell me! Tell me—anything!_

"I know what Yoda would say about fear," Obi-wan cuts in. "But Luke—he feels guilty, too, Mace. If Rey finds out—"

_If I find out what?_

"The girl doesn't deserve that," Obi-wan says. "The caseworker said she was scared to leave for years. Thought they'd be coming back for her."

 _Why does everyone think that's stupid of me?_ Rey wants to stomp her foot like a child.

"No, of course Luke doesn't regret it," Obi-wan says. "He did what he had to do. We all did."

Rey hesitates, wondering if she should just barge into the kitchen. But she doesn't want to give the old man a heart attack. _You're all I have._

"All right then," Obi-wan says. "See you."

Rey turns and runs, heading back to her room and shutting the door. Obi-wan might've heard the click. She hopes he heard the click.

Her throat still throbs, eager for water, but she won't give it any. She can't.

Hot tears pour down her face, and Rey digs through her bag, finding that ragdoll she always slept with back in Jakku, the one she made herself since Unkar sure as hell wasn't going to buy her one of the nice plastic ones all the girls in her class had, and her parents hadn't left her with anything. Pressing it against her chest, Rey climbs back into bed, breathing in the familiar scent of Jakku as she cries, silent like she learned to do at the age of five.

* * *

"What on earth have you two been up to lately?" Hux jeers as Ben arrives a week after he found out. "You're spending so much time with him I'm starting to wonder if he's having an affair. Isn't that statutory—"

Ben whirls around, fist aimed at Hux's face. He doesn't even need to land the blow; Hux flinches and covers his face.

When he realizes Ben never planned to hit him, a scowl settles on Hux's lips. He straightens.

"Phasma giving it to you so good you can't think of anything else?" Ben taunts.

"Your family's in the paper today," Hux sneers, his face camouflaging with his hair.

 _Today?_ Ben scrambles to grab a copy of the _First Order_.

_Secrets of the Organa and Skywalker Families: A tie to Darth Vader?_

Hux cackles, clearly expecting Ben to be devastated. Instead, Ben's eyes slide down to see the name listed after Snoke's: _Kylo Ren._

 _Holy shit,_ Rey texts him. _Maybe Padmé will see_ _her name!_

Ben doubts it. He's not sure there's much of a point in trying to find this grandmother of his—she has to have been a snob to have left his grandfather.

_And Vader? What does he think? Is he angry, or proud, or reconsidering?_

By the time Ben gets home, he finds Uncle Luke, Grandfather—not-Grandfather—Mom, and Dad all crowded in the living room, Mom and Dad on the couch, Grandfather-not-Grandfather in the leather armchair, and Luke pacing in front of the fireplace they never even use because why would they, it's summertime and they only visit in the summer.

"Ben—" Mom starts, reaching for him. Clouds brew outside the window.

"You're all liars," Ben blurts out, jerking away from her. He keeps his gaze on each of them, hoping it lacerates them the same way it's been lacerating him all damn week. "You hypocritical—"

"Ben, we were trying to protect you—" Uncle Luke says.

"Bullshit!" Ben shouts. "You were—" He points at Mom and Dad. "Protecting yourselves, not me, and you know it! What the hell is wrong with you people? You treat me like I'm a child and like I can't—"

"Ben, if your goal is to convince us you shouldn't be treated like a child, you're not doing yourself any favors," Dad cuts in.

"Go to hell, why don't you?" Ben retorts. _I did it. I did it! I_ knew! But he can't say that. Not yet.

"Ben!" shouts Grandfather-not-Grandfather.

"I understand you're feeling betrayed," Mom says, her voice shaking. "But—"

"There's really nothing you can say," Ben snarls, heart hammering against the muscles in his chest. "I want to meet him."

"No," Uncle Luke cuts in.

"You're not my parent!" Ben shouts.

"Luke's right," Mom says. "He's distressed right now—it'd be too—"

"You're a liar," Ben says, curling his fists. His knuckles have almost healed, not that Dad noticed the bruises or the scrapes. Granted Ben wore a sweatshirt pulled down all the time, but _Snoke_ noticed, didn't he? _Listen to me! Hear me, see_ me!

"Ben, we _love_ you," Dad insists.

"No," Ben says, breaths harsh and heavy. The words squeeze their way up from his lungs, tumbling out in a messy ugly pile, but all he can hope is that he'll feel better for having vomited them out because they've been stewing inside him for so. Damn. Long. "You don't. You never have. You love me because you can talk about me. You love me as a prop, not as anything—"

Grandfather-not-Grandfather groans, clasping his forehead.

"You stole her," Ben says, turning to him. "You—"

"Don't you ever say something like that again!" Dad bellows, leaping to his feet. "I mean it, Ben!"

"What else have you said that about?" Ben sneers. "Lying? How's that look on you? And weren't you arrested for stealing, you—"

Dad's face drains of color.

Thunder rumbles, and a knock echoes on the door.

"I'll get it," Mom croaks out, staggering up.

 _Of course you will. Just walk away, walk away!_ Ben wants to scream after her.

The accented voice of Cassian Andor echoes. Ben curses to himself, squeezing his fists. His knuckles pop.

"Leia, Jyn said I had to tell you right away. Mothma says there have been a lot of threats after the leak. You and your family might be in danger."


	14. Chapter 14

_**Twenty-five years ago** _

"Two hundred hours of community service," the judge announces, smacking the gavel down. "And if you wind up in the system one more time before you turn eighteen, Miss Erso, you'll be looking at time in a juvenile facility."

Jyn glowers at him. There goes her summer. Although, now that she thinks about it, it's not as if she had other plans.

She presumes that running away also counts as violating her terms. Spending another night filthy in a holding cell, where some ugly girl twice Jyn's size held a carved knife to her neck doesn't appeal. More time in Wobani juvenile hall is the last thing Jyn wants. She'd lose her sanity after five days.

Saw Gerrera wheezes when he sees her, ever-present oxygen tank there beside him. At least they didn't take her away from him.

_If he dies…_

"You'll start your work in the morning," Mon Mothma, her caseworker, tells her, red hair clipped short. Jyn barely nods. She doesn't much like being stuck in this stupid tourist town. "Seven am."

"That early?"

Mothma bites back with looks like a snort, as if she's actually amused, which would be a first for Jyn—amusing an adult. "Yes. That early."

"What kind of service?" Jyn demands, crossing her arms as she slouches, waiting for Saw.

Mothma clears her throat. "You'll be volunteering at Yavin's daycare for underprivileged kids."

 _Fantastic._ Jyn presses her head against the wall.

"There's another boy in your neighborhood who also volunteers."

"So he's a criminal too?" Jyn asks sarcastically. Because that's what Jyn is. _Possession of stolen goods. Aggravated assault. Resisting arrest._

All guilty.

"Cassian Andor volunteers," Mothma says. "Although he's also a foster—"

 _Another dumped kid._ Although unlike Jyn, he's clearly trying to earn back his favor with the world even though it clearly couldn't give a shit about him.

"I'll ask him to take you in the morning," Mothma adds.

Jyn doesn't care. She can't wait to go home and try and sleep. Except, when she does, she sees her mother falling to the ground, her father holding her, she hears the shot, and she hears the ticking of a clock in the hospital and then the police station and at her home, when her father started working longer and longer days, avoiding her.

Running away didn't even make him fight to keep her. He didn't even show up today.

Saw at least sees her.

But he's dying, too. Car accident. Lung cancer. The universe hates her.

Jyn turns down dinner. The next morning, she grabs a pack of pop-tarts and waits on the front steps like Mothma told her too—along with an invitation to call her _Mon_ , which Jyn turned down because it's way too similar to another name, another woman—for this goody-two-shoes to show up.

Jyn tugs on the necklace Mom gave her, the night she died. She doesn't want to think about that now.

" _What would your mother think?" coaxed her caseworker._

" _She doesn't think," Jyn answered. "She's dead."_

"Hey," says a voice above her.

Jyn lifts her head—when did she put it down?—to see a Latino boy with dark scruff on his chin looking down at her.

"Cassian Andor," he introduces himself. "You must be—"

"Jyn," she says. Although when they first arrested her and she gave the name _Liana Hallick,_ she hoped they'd never find her real name. Unfortunately it didn't take them very long.

Cassian nods, regarding her. Jyn stares right back at him. The sun scalds her scalp and her neck. "Let's get going."

"Cassian!" calls another kid, tall and gangly, as he runs up to them. The streets are coated in pollen. Jyn coughs.

"This is Kaytoo," Cassian introduces.

"You must be the girl who's doing community service," Kaytoo says. "With kids. I think that's a bad idea, and so does Cassian."

Jyn whirls around to glare at Cassian, who doesn't even flinch. "Fine then," Jyn says.

* * *

 _Why did you say that, Kay?_ Cassian knows why. Kay has no filter. At all.

He feels sorry for the girl. It's really unfair to her as well as to the kids. But she looks at him like she hates him now, and guilt nibbles at him because he can't exactly blame her. Given the little Draven told him about her, she has ample enough reason to distrust people, and now he's given her another one.

Cassian leads the way through the maze of streets, hoping Jyn doesn't kick him in the back.

They arrive at the building, short and squat, with two browning palm trees planted outside it. Paint chips from the sign advertising their hours, and the pavement's pitted and cracked. "I know it doesn't look like much."

Jyn cocks an eyebrow. "So are you gonna take us inside?"

"Hey," blurts out another voice from behind them. A long-haired, Middle-eastern boy jogs up, a huge grin on his face. "Are you volunteering here too?"

"They are," Jyn says, jerking her thumb. "I'm just doing community service."

"Oh," the boy says, blinking. "So am I. Community service, I mean."

"Bodhi Rook?" Cassian asks, digging through his pocket for the keys.

"What are you, some kind of supervisor?" Jyn taunts.

He meets her gaze. "Yes."

"Things make more sense now," she snaps.

Cassian scowls as he yanks open the door. _This is going to be an awful month._ Bodhi's blabbering to Jyn about how he likes working with kids, and Cassian remembers the file he looked at. Bodhi's crimes appear to be more other people taking advantage and manipulating him rather than malice.

Then again, Jyn doesn't look malicious either. She looks like a fighter.

Kaytoo retrieves their nametags, handing them over. Jyn's lip curls in disgust.

"My name's spelled right," Bodhi says in appreciation.

"They'll be here within the hour," Cassian says, glancing at the clock. "As will Raddus, our supervisor. But there are two kids who come regularly who have ADHD, and their parents recommend letting them run around in the back for a bit—"

"Do you actually have a yard?" Jyn asks.

"We have a fenced-in blacktop," Cassian retorts. She nods.

"I'll take them," Jyn volunteers.

Cassian blinks. He'd been about to say he would do it and they'd have to turn to Raddus or Kaytoo for direction.

"How do you know she won't run off?" Kaytoo questions.

Cassian winces, but it's a legitimate point. "I'll take them."

"Trust goes both ways," Jyn says, arms crossed, and the words land like rocks inside Cassian's stomach.

"Fine," he acquiesces.

"That is a bad idea," Kaytoo declares.

"Shut up," Cassian snaps as he pushes past, heading to get the toast ready for breakfast. Raddus arrives moments later and greets both Jyn and Bodhi with cheer, clearly delighting Bodhi and taking Jyn aback. Kids start streaming in, and while Bodhi dives right in, Jyn stands stiff, clearly not sure what to do. Not that Kaytoo has ever been any better.

When Pendra and her brother arrive, Cassian nods at her. "That's them."

"Okay." Jyn heads over, crouching down and inviting them to come out back. Pendra skips along.

"God save those kids," Kaytoo mutters.

Only five minutes passes before Cassian hears the squeal of tires, and the crash.

"What was that?" Kaytoo cries out.

A two-year-old starts crying. Bodhi grabs the kid. "Shh, it's okay."

Cassian flies outside as Raddus barks for Kaytoo to stay put.

* * *

Jyn heard the tires, but she never saw the car. All she saw was Pendra pushing her way out of the fence— _shit, it's not locked? What good is a fence if it's not even bloody locked?_ —and the wide open street in front of the little girl.

Jyn didn't think to yell. Her legs pumping, she charged for the girl, grabbing her just as a car slammed on the horn and the brakes. Jyn threw Pendra to the side and jumped to the side.

Her palms burn, and her knee stings. Her elbow aches. Cursing, Jyn pries herself up and feels a foot land in her stomach. And she hears the crying.

 _Oh, right._ Jyn pulls herself and then Pendra to her feet. The car must have just missed them.

 _Shit_.

"What the hell, girl?" bellows an older man who looks vaguely familiar to Jyn. He's wearing a white suit that seems to scream summer fashion to Jyn. He slams the door to his vehicle, the front of which appears to have been torn apart by the fence.

Jyn's still wheezing. "Would you rather have hit—"

"You should make sure your brats are kept inside! Isn't that the point of a fence?"

"We're sorry!" cries out Cassian, leaping out and blocking her view of the man. "It was an accident."

"Hmph."

Cassian glances behind him. "You okay?"

She nods. Pendra's still screaming.

"Get her inside," Cassian orders, and while she hates obeying anyone, she doesn't have the energy to protest.

"Wow," Bodhi says when she staggers in, blood dripping from the gash in her elbow. "Are you—"

Kaytoo grabs Pendra, checking her over. As far as Jyn knows, the girl only has a small scrape. She's lucky. Jyn slumps down on a small stool, rummaging for a band-aid.

Cassian comes inside while Raddus goes out. Jyn cranes her neck. "No one told me the gate was open."

"That's because it shouldn't have been," Cassian says, white-faced.

"If you're going to blame—"

"I'm not blaming you." He looks at her with his eyes wide and lips open.

 _Are you impressed?_ Jyn's taken aback. She almost feels bad for the five dollars she pocketed from his wallet while he made breakfast.

Cassian mutters something in Spanish and turns back to the kids. Clearly they don't have time to waste on _what ifs_ when they have kids that need them.

If only her father had bothered to learn that.

* * *

The day over, Cassian locks up and leaves. Raddus assured him he'll take care of things with Krennic. Knowing that man, he's not above suing a daycare for underprivileged children.

Jyn and Bodhi both did pretty well, even after that. Jyn read to Pendra for almost an hour, the girl situated on her lap, and Bodhi and Jyn seem to be getting along well enough.

"So," Bodhi says as they head down the street, empty even though it's tourist season because no tourists hang out in this part of town. "If your last name is Erso, are you related to Galen by any chance?"

Jyn stiffens. Cassian studies her, curious.

"He's my father," Jyn says.

"Your Galen's daughter?" Bodhi's eyes widen. "He's—"

"He might as well have abandoned me after Mom died," Jyn cuts in. "That's why I live with Saw Gerrera now."

"Galen Erso's your father?" Cassian repeats. "Then—that Krennic, the one who almost hit Pendra—he's good friends with your father. They work together at least."

Jyn shakes her head. "He's barely seen me in years. He's been gone on business trips for so many months that I was living with Saw Gerrera before I was legally living with Saw. Saw's more of my father than he is."

 _I see._ Cassian frowns.

"He helped me," Bodhi says quietly.

Jyn spins to face him. Kaytoo sucks in his breath.

"He's the one who convinced me to go to the police," Bodhi blabbers. "I was helping—well—with illegal things, at the casinos, because I needed the money because my family—I want to go to college and be a pilot—and so—but it was wrong and I felt so guilty—Galen told me I could make things right, if I was brave enough to listen to what was in my heart."

Jyn's eyes dart around. Cassian catches his breath.

"You're the one who saved that little girl," calls a voice, disrupting them all. Jyn jumps.

Casian whirls around to see two kids, probably college-aged, leaning in the small gap between two buildings. The one who spoke is Asian, and judging from his eyes and his cane, blind.

"How would you know?" Kaytoo asks bluntly.

The boy's companion, a taller man with wild hair, glares at Kaytoo. Cassian grabs his friend's shoulder. _Shut up!_

"I heard it," Chirrut says. "You're very brave."

Jyn laughs.

Chirrut frowns. "You don't think so?"

"Who even _are_ you?" Jyn demands.

"Troublemakers," Cassian interjects, dragging Kaytoo down the street. But Jyn and Bodhi aren't following— _shit!_

"I'm Chirrut Îmwe," he says. "And he's Baze Malbus."

"Jyn, come on," Cassian urges. "We've got to."

"What's all this?" interrupts a deep voice from behind him. Cassian's heart freezes in his chest as he remembers another time he heard those words, and what he did.

If he's honest, he's just pretending to be better than Jyn and Bodhi.

"We're just talking," Jyn snaps.

 _Oh, no._ Cassian turns to see Officer Vader standing behind them, tall and imposing. "You seem to be—"

"We're going now," Cassian insists. He only realizes he's reached behind him and grabbed Jyn's arm after he's done it. Jyn doesn't resist.

"You had better," Vader advises.

"I think not, Officer Vader," a voice interrupts.

 _Are you kidding me?_ Cassian bites back a curse. Kaytoo moans aloud as Krennic appears from an alleyway. _Were you waiting for us? Are you that pissed off about your blasted car?_

"I think they should be frisked," says Krennic. "Two of them are completing community service, you know."

Shame melts Bodhi's face. His shoulders slump. Not Jyn. She just raises her eyebrows as if to say, _try me._

"We just came from a daycare," Cassian interjects. _As you know_. "We don't want any trouble."

"I don't take orders from you, Krennic," Vader says. "Scurry off back to your private beach, Director."

Chirrut's lips curve in a smile as Krennic, a scowl marring his lips, turns and stalks off.

"You're not leaving," Vader says as Baze moves to head off. "I am going to search—"

"On what grounds?" Jyn shoots back.

"Suspicious behavior. Given your reputations, I wouldn't be too sassy, Miss Erso."

 _He knows who she is?_ Cassian bites the inside of his cheek. Bitter blood fills his mouth. Judging by the darting of Jyn's eyes, she's contemplating running.

"Empty your pockets," Vader orders.

Cassian squeezes her arm, hoping she understands. She slides her gaze towards him, but obeys. Bodhi pulls out two crumpled tissues and a small booklet. Chirrut has only seashells, and Baze, like Kaytoo, has nothing at all. Cassian pulls out several folded lists from the daycare, his wallet, and a small hard candy. All Jyn has is a five dollar bill.

"Where did you get this?" Vader demands.

"I found it," Jyn answers. "It's not a crime to have money, is it?"

"I find that answer vague and unconvincing," Kaytoo mutters just loud enough for Cassian to hear.

Cassian's hand instantly flies to his wallet, where he feels for the money. Nothing.

 _You thief!_ She's watching him with her chest rising quickly, clearly expecting him to say something.

But he sees the bloodstained band-aid on her elbow, and chomps down on his tongue.

"You may go," Vader says.

"That was very noble of you," whispers Chirrut to Cassian. He jumps.

"Thanks," Jyn mutters to him. She holds out the crumpled bill.

"Keep it," he tells her. He probably shouldn't have. He can hear Draven now _: you're rewarding bad behavior!_

"Well, I—" Kaytoo starts.

"Do you all want to stop by the penny candy store?" Jyn blurts out. "I can spend this there—we can all get something."

"That sounds good to me," Chirrut says. He deftly steps over a pothole, and Cassian wonders how he knew it was there. Baze says nothing, but his hand hovers by Chirrut's shoulder, ready to intervene.

"I'd like to," Bodhi says. "I haven't—well, I haven't done anything fun or with friends in—"

 _Friends._ Cassian's not sure that's what they are.

"Your behavior, Jyn Erso, is continually surprising," Kaytoo comments, which Cassian interprets as a _yes_.


	15. Chapter 15

"I don't know what to do, Obi-wan. I'm worried for her," Luke says as Rey slips out of her room. "The threats are quite serious—some of them threaten Ben, and though she says she's fine, I know my sister and I know she's anxious—"

 _Apparently we're not the only two who know about it,_ Rey texted Ben the night the news broke.

He responded by expressing that he was worried someone at the paper overheard his conversation with Rey the night he found out. Rey had thought he called her from his house, but she must have been wrong.

" _It's not your fault," she assured him. "Do you know who this Kylo Ren is?"_

_He paused. "No idea."_

At any rate, his internship's ended. Leia demanded it, and Rey can't imagine how Ben would have wanted to keep working there when there's a high likelihood one of his coworkers betrayed him. And Snoke.

But Ben has permission to go out tonight. Mostly because Rey, Finn, and Poe will all be with him. Rey adjusts her jean shorts and gray t-shirt.

She hasn't spoken much to Obi-wan since she overheard him talking to Mace, whoever the hell he is. He doesn't seem any more annoyed with her than usual, which is to say he doesn't seem annoyed with her at all. But then again, Obi-wan's been distracted.

Rey heads out to the living area. Artoo woofs and charges at her. Laughing, Rey drops down to pat the dog. At least someone's happy to see her.

"Hello, Rey," Luke says, rubbing his grizzled face.

"Hey," Rey says back. "How's your father?"

Luke winces, just like Rey intended. "He's—okay. Shocked. Not at all happy to be back in the news."

"Worried for Leia and Han, I'd imagine," Obi-wan interjects.

Luke nods.

"Even though they don't talk?" Rey questions, curious. _Maybe my parents still worry for me, even though they can't bring themselves to see me for some reason._

"He still loves her," Luke answers. "And if something happens to her, or Han or Ben or Bail, on account of him—" He stops himself.

"Didn't he try to set Bail up to take the fall for several crimes?" Rey asks. "According to the paper."

Obi-wan frowns. Luke sighs, leaning forwards with his elbows resting on his knees. "He regrets it."

Rey nods. "He seemed nice when I met him," she offers. Luke's face breaks into a smile.

"Just because you regret something doesn't mean you can fix it, though," Obi-wan cuts in. "Sometimes, you have to live with the consequences."

 _Like me? Am I a consequence of an indiscretion? Of a fight that wasn't rectified in time, and now I'm something you have to live with?_ Rey flinches.

"Anyways," Luke says. "She and Han are heading to meet with lawyers tonight."

"Does he have to stay in hiding?" Rey asks. "I mean, he never comes out—are there threats to him as well?"

"He's not afraid of the threats, Rey," Obi-wan says. "Those are nothing new."

"Shame's a hard chain to break," Luke adds.

 _I don't think hiding's going to help at all with that,_ Rey thinks. _How else can you show you've changed?_

* * *

 _It's too convenient._ Finn's stomach churns as he prepares to end his shift at the Whills Bookshop.

The glass door swings open, bell chiming. Finn bites back a groan. He just wants to get to his friends, get to their night out.

"Hey, Finn!" sings Bodhi.

 _Oh. Just you_. Finn relaxes and nods at him. "How's it going?"

"Fine, fine." Bodhi waves his hand. "Baze and Chirrut here?"

"Out back," Finn says, glancing at the clock.

"Going somewhere tonight?"

"Yeah." Finn shrugs. "Out to dinner with Rey, Poe, and Ben. And then Rey mentioned the boardwalk."

"Huh." Bodhi leans against the counter. "How do you feel about that?"

His stomach's doing flip-flops. Finn shrugs. "We won't go to Phasma's booth."

"Well, good for you, then," Bodhi says with a laugh. "You're braver than me."

The clock ticks in the background. "What do you mean?"

"I was—terrified—to face what I used to do. Until I had to," Bodhi says. "You know, after I got—caught. Or turned myself in. I did not get caught. I turned myself in. And them in."

Finn shrugs. "Your situation was a little more serious." Of course, the other issue swims in his mind. _That's_ more _serious._

"Hm." Bodhi drums his fingers on the wood. "Maybe, yeah. But you don't have to downplay your own concerns."

Finn smiles. "Bodhi?" he ventures, heart pounding. _Am I really doing this?_

"Yeah?"

"What if you suspect someone's done something—well, something wrong—something that could hurt someone else—but you don't have any direct proof?" Finn waits with his throat tight.

"Huh." Bodhi presses his lips together. "Is this related to the booth?"

"No." _Please don't try to guess._

"Maybe talk to them?" Bodhi suggests. "The person. Who you think's done something wrong. Or the person who's going to be hurt, if you can't."

"Confrontations aren't really my thing," Finn says with a grimace.

Bodhi laughs. "No, I don't think they would be. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing," he adds.

Finn hesitates. "Feels pretty bad to me."

"Nah," Bodhi says, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're brave, remember. You'll be able to accomplish a lot, if you follow what's in your heart. That's what someone once told me, anyways, and they were right."

Finn snorts. "What if my heart tells me to just run and hide?"

"That your heart or your fear?"

_I'm not sure I know the difference anymore._

_Actually, I'm not sure I ever did._

Finn remembers listening to one foster mother screaming at one boy who wrote for his second-grade Christmas wish list that he wanted a _family_. And Finn thought how stupid the boy was, even though he comforted him when their foster mother was through ranting about his ungratefulness.

Why would Finn ever write what was on his heart, when all it resulted in was it getting stomped on?

"It's always a risk, you know," Bodhi says. "Always a risk. But sometimes it's one worth taking, in the end."

* * *

The boardwalk, with all its flashing neon lights, sugar-high children, and giant ice cream cones, is less appealing to Ben. Every blink of lime green lettering, every fake wailing siren from a game, makes him jump.

Rey gives him a sympathetic smile, and he knows she probably thinks he's anxious about the death threats his family's been receiving. And he is.

Except they're accompanied by a sickening twist.

 _It'll all be okay,_ Ben reassures himself. _They deserve to be uncomfortable. Everything will be fine in the end. It's all a bunch of internet trolls living in their mom's basement with nothing better to do._

Rey bites into a mint chocolate chip ice cream.

"Rey, you're supposed to lick it, not bite it," Ben teases as he clutches a black raspberry. Poe responds by biting his cookies n' cream, and Finn ignores them as he focuses on his double chocolate.

Rey rolls her eyes. "I do what I want."

She's teasing him back. Ben's spirits lift. His knuckles ache, because last night he took to punching himself in the side when he heard his father decrying whoever this Kylo Ren is as a "good-for-nothing bastard. I hope he gets what's coming to him. If I ever find him, I'll probably be in jail afterwards, let's just say that, Leia." And Ben wanted to scream, to cry.

 _Ignore him. He doesn't matter,_ Ben tells himself.

_He's the failure. Not you._

Snoke wasn't happy when Ben had to quit. Neither was Ben. " _You're making me pay for your mistakes!" Ben shouted at Mom._

_She turned ashen._

" _She knows, and you're being quite rude," Threepio reprimanded him._

"When we finish our ice creams," Poe says. "We should give the bumper cars a try." He gives Ben a wicked smile.

Finn laughs.

"Let's do it," Rey declares, crunching into her cone.

Each bumper car has two seats. Ben reaches for Rey's hand, eager to feel her fingers between his, filling his gaps, but instead, Rey suggests something else. "Why don't I go with Finn, and Poe, you with Ben? Split the couples up!"

 _You don't want to go with me_?

_You're a failure, failure, failure, failure._

"I'm just trying to keep you two from killing each other," Rey tells him and Poe, whose mouth hangs open.

"We're not a couple," Finn snaps.

At that, Poe's jaw snaps shut, and Ben sees him blinking rapidly.

None of them seem willing to challenge Rey. Slouching, Ben climbs into the small car next to Poe.

"So," Poe says, shaking his hurt away. "We have to work together now."

"I could still give you another black eye."

"I could also give you one."

They stare at each other, neither looking away.

"That's your get-along car!" taunts Rey as she and Finn climb into another car.

_Great._

"I think we should make them pay for that," Poe suggests grimly. Ben nods.

"You get the brakes," he suggests. "I'll get the gas."

"Fine." Poe grips the steering wheel. "Ready?"

"Let's do this." Ben grits his teeth.

The cars start moving, and what looks like two twin boys with identical red hair and freckles slam into Ben and Poe almost instantly. Meanwhile, Rey and Finn zoom about, both laughing.

"We can worry about those ones later," Poe advises. "Let's get them."

Ben hits the gas, and they charge off towards Finn and Rey. Rey shrieks as they slam into them.

"Nice," Poe says, nodding as they speed away.

"You know, I am sorry," Ben says, his palms slick with sweat. "For punching you—that was—"

 _Poe didn't deserve it._ He punched Poe because he couldn't punch himself I public.

"Go on," Poe says, grinning. Rey and Finn slam into them, jerking Ben's head to the side.

"Just—I'm sorry."

"Well." Poe nods. "Good enough."

The ride ends shortly thereafter, and as they all extract themselves, laughing, Ben almost allows himself to slip into this feeling of having friends.

"Oh look, cotton candy!" Rey cries.

"Rey, you just had ice cream," Ben points out.

"I've never had it before."

 _Oh_. Ben pulls out his wallet.

"You look like you're having an awful lot of fun," interrupts a voice.

Hux stands there, arms crossed and shirt impeccably tucked in, Phasma bored by his side. Finn narrows his eyes.

"Here." Ben thrusts some dollar bills at Rey. "Go get some. Get out of here, Hux, Phasma."

Rey hesitates, but she heads off with Poe and Finn.

"Heard your family's all a mess," Hux says. "I'm surprised they let you out here, with the safety concerns and all."

"How do you know about that?" Ben demands. Poe goes to step in and Ben shakes his head. Rey glares at Hux.

"I have common sense," Hux replies. "Your mom's a famous politician. Your uncle's a famous reporter." He drops his voice, stepping closer, so close he has to look up to Ben. "Although, I gotta say, that Kylo Ren must be some reporter himself."

Ben flinches.

"You know," Hux continues as Phasma's smirk grows behind him, even though she can't possibly hear what Hux is saying. "I think if I were to write my own story, about who Kylo Ren is, that could make the news too. And I'm sure your parents would be grateful for the information."

Ben can't breathe. "Go fuck yourself."

And with that, Ben could kick himself. Now Hux knows he's gotten under Ben's skin, and the grin that lights up his face sickens Ben.

"See you around," Hux says, taking a step back. "Or not. Since you don't work at the _First Order_ anymore."

 _You didn't do anything more wrong than what your parents did,_ Ben tries to tell himself. _Besides, the public deserved to know._

Vomit surges up his throat. He remembers Dad saying Ben might turn out just like his grandfather. Darth Vader.

 _Well, I did,_ he thinks bitterly. _And I'm not that sorry about it—I'm not—_

"Ben?" Rey questions as she jogs back over, a pink cloud resting in her hand. "Do I need to kick their asses?"

He can only shake his head. Anxiety gnaws at his gut, and in his chest, hollowness sits.

* * *

"Eh, they're shitheads," Poe says. "Ignore them."

Finn doesn't know what Hux was threatening Ben with, but he can make a decent guess. _Are you all in on it?_

Ben clenches his fists. Finn steals some of Poe's cotton candy.

"I can buy you your own, you know," Poe says in exasperation.

"Nah," Finn says as he munches. "I don't like it _that_ much."

Poe rolls his eyes, smoothing his hair. Rey and Ben bicker over whether or not to go after Hux and Phasma up ahead.

"Are you okay, though?" Poe asks, slapping at a mosquito. "You know. Phasma—"

"I'm fine," Finn cuts in. "She's a waste of my time. Just a bully."

"Well, still," Poe says. "This is your first time—I mean, this is the first summer you've been able to break away and be on your own, more or less, right? When you find yourself as kind of a pawn, I imagine that's gotta hurt."

Poe's words slice into him, feeling almost as if they're prying his skin off and exposing him. Finn flinches.

" _They're more trouble than they're worth!" At eleven, his foster dad screamed at his foster mom, yet again._

" _They get us money!" the mom defended._

" _Barely enough to cover their lives! These kids are never gonna amount to anything, you know that? You're just using them to make your bleeding heart feel a bit better, but our son's still dead!"_

I'm money, _Finn thought._ I'm a band-aid.

"I've been in worse situations like that," Finn says aloud, shaking off the dregs of the memory. Still they cling. _Never gonna amount to anything… more trouble than they're worth… worth…_

Poe frowns, his chocolate eyes dark and understanding. Which should be laughable to Finn, since Poe can't understand. He's got two parents that love him.

But he's trying, and Finn appreciates it, because precious few people have ever tried before.

"I'm sorry," Poe says. "You know that still doesn't make it okay, feeling like that before. If anything it makes it less okay."

Finn shrugs, and another memory echoes in his mind, one far more recent. Bodhi Rook's voice.

_You're brave, remember. You'll be able to accomplish a lot, if you follow what's in your heart._

"Thanks," Finn says.

"It's true," Poe insists. The yellow lights advertising an arcade flash dizzyingly behind him.

He hopes so.

He's always thought he'd have to make it true.

 _But you knew, didn't you, somewhere inside, that it wasn't the way things should be?_ But it was also the way things were, and Finn was too scared to try and live as if they were different.

_You're brave, remember._

He looks at Poe, who bites his lip as he looks at Finn.

"Thank you," Finn says again.

Poe nods, tossing his empty cotton candy stick into a rubbish bin. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and he, too, looks peeled back, raw here, worried he's said too much.

Maybe he did. _Or maybe we all just say too little._ Finn steps closer. His heart picks up pace. Sweat beads his forehead.

"You're a—great person, Poe," Finn manages.

 _What am I thinking?_ He's never so much as been kissed before. _I'm an idiot; I'm a—_

Poe's eyes widen as if he understands something Finn doesn't, and then he leans in, grabbing the back of Finn's neck and brushing his lips against Finn's.

_Oh my God._

Poe's eyes flit up, as if to check if it's okay, and then he sinks his mouth into Finn's, and Finn doesn't know what to do except follow Poe's lead as a war sensation spreads from his abdomen to his ankles to his palms.

 _He likes_ me.

"Yes!" cheers Rey.

Breaking the kiss with a laugh, Finn pulls away to see Rey grinning and Ben smiling softly.

"Ben!" shouts a voice.

Finn jumps at the intensity of the yell. Poe's brow creases.

Luke Skywalker barrels through the crowd, rushing towards them with a leash around a panting Artoo. Threepio stumbles after him, wiping his brow and stuttering.

"What are you—" Ben starts.

"There's been an—" Luke swallows. Finn notices the sweat slicking his beard, the panic riddling his eyes. Rey's jaw drops. "We need to talk."

"Why?" Ben snaps.

Finn cringes.

"There's no time for that, Ben!" Luke shouts. Several onlookers turn to stare. One father pulls his pigtailed daughter closer. "Something's happened to your parents."

"What?" Rey demands. Ben sags, but he doesn't speak. A look of complete horror possesses his jaw, his brows, his mouth.

"We—"

"What happened?" Rey demands again.

"We should—"

"Now!" Ben shouts. "Tell—what—" He's gasping.

Someone laughs on the boardwalk, and it feels so out of place, so inconsiderate. Finn could smack whoever's jolly right now.

"Someone attacked your parents," Luke says in resignation. Tears fill his eyes and he blinks them back.

Poe covers his mouth, and all the hope Finn felt moments ago vanishes. He grips Poe's hand. _No, no, no—please no._

"An assassination attempt," Rey realizes.

 _The threats were real?_ Finn turns to gawp at Ben, whose face drains to the color of the moon on a misty night.

"Your mom's okay," Luke says quickly. "They shot through the window—missed her—but Ben, they hit your dad. He's been rushed to the hospital, we don't know yet if—"

"Shot where?' Ben demands. "Where?"

Luke's mouth opens and closes. He covers his face as his shoulders quake.

"Chest," Threepio says.

"He'll be okay," Rey says, her voice shaking in disbelief. "He'll be okay, Ben—I know he will—he has to be—"

"Nothing's okay," Ben chokes out, and Finn doesn't think there's a more accurate way to put things.


	16. Chapter 16

"It's okay, Ben," Grandfather-not-grandfather lies to him, rubbing his shoulders as Ben hurls again and again into the grimy hospital toilet. His stomach throbs from heaving.

Dad's in surgery, and Dr. Kalonia told Mom to prepare for the worst, call for spiritual support. She called Chirrut Îmwe, who sits out there in the waiting room with his husband and Ben's uncle and Threepio and Rey and Obi-wan and Poe and Finn. But not his real grandfather. His real grandfather, for whom Ben did all this.

_My article…_

_I did this._

_I killed my father. He's going to die.  
_

_I'm a_ murderer. Ben gapes at his hands, still clean, no fleck of blood on them. He stumbles out of the stall, stares at himself in the mirror, and sees that he still looks like he always looks, a sixteen-year-old boy with shaggy dark hair, immaculately styled to cover the ears too large for his face.

_How do I cover this?_

He should look like a monster. But he looks the same as ever. He doesn't even look _tired_ enough.

 _I couldn't have known,_ Ben tells himself as he blots vomit away from his lips. _It's not my fault. Not my fault. Not my fault._

The mantra doesn't lessen the drumming in his head. Ben wishes Grandfather-not-grandfather would just leave already, so he can slam his fist again and again into the wall, break his hand, be hurt too because then see, see, see he'd be hurt too, it'd prove he's not a bad person, maybe Snoke would reassure him?

_We didn't do anything wrong._

_I killed my father._

"There's no shame in crying, Ben," Grandfather-not-grandfather tells him, and Ben can't look him in the eye.

Ben turns and stalks out of the bathroom, heading back towards the waiting room with its abysmally uncomfortable black plastic chairs and that horrible ticking clock that reminds Ben that every second could be his father's last.

The Damerons showed up earlier to collect Poe, and Maz for Finn. All gave their condolences. It's now past three in the morning.

_He's not dead yet._

_He will be._

Ben clenches his fists so tightly his knuckles pop. Rey lifts her head and offers him a worried look. All she can do.

Mom reaches for him, and the last place Ben wants to be is her arms. But he has no choice. He's trapped.

_Help me._

_Help my father._

Ben's praying. He looks to Chirrut, who keeps his head bowed.

_No one will help me._

Obi-wan hands him a cup of water and Ben just sits there with it in his hands. Why would he drink it? What's the point?

"Drink it," Uncle Luke tells him, and for that, Ben won't.

The doctor arrives as dawn's starting to break through the indigo sky, crimson and golden and promising a beautiful, ugly day. "He made it through surgery."

Mom grabs her in an embrace.

"It'll be touch and go for awhile," the doctor cautions. "He's on a ventilater, and his condition is still critical. We don't know if there's been any—"

 _He's_ alive _._

_For now._

"If you want to see him, I'll let immediate family pay him a brief visit."

"Ben?" Mom requests.

He gets to his feet. It's automatic. His brain can hardly think. His gaze darts to Rey, who nods at him with tearstains on her face.

_She'd hate me._

The thought nauseates him again. His shoes squeak on the too-clean floor, clocks ticking all around them. It's only him and Mom, surrounded by white-jacketed doctors and scrubs-clad nurses. Or maybe the ones in scrubs are doctors too. Ben doesn't care.

The elevator door closes behind them, and Ben wants to scream, because it's too small, and he can't breathe. He feels as if he has tar hardened in his lungs. The elevator dings, and they step off on the seventh floor, and then there he is, in a tiny room with white curtains and about a dozen beeping machines surrounding him, tubes spinning out of his body, a tube snaking out of his open mouth, and he looks so _old_.

_What have I done?_

"Han," whispers Mom, her voice breaking. She takes a step in, and then another, and then she's holding his limp hand despite all the IV tubes.

Ben takes a step.

"Ben's here too," Mom tells him.

_I'm your murderer. You're still here, and I'm still that._

_I can't._

She turns around, and Ben shakes his head. Tears fill her eyes, and with her other hand, she reaches out for him.

_She loves me._

_She should see. She should know._

_She can't._

Ben turns and runs. Down the stairwell— _screw the elevator_ —and through the lobby, outside where the air's steaming with humidity and he's flying through the streets, barely recognizing where he's going until he's there.

The First Order.

He waits outside, huddled on the sidewalk like a bum as people and faces, unfamiliar and ones he does recognize, pass by. No one speaks to him.

And then there he is, the face Ben's been waiting for. He leaps to his feet as Snoke heads towards the doors.

"Ben," Snoke says.

"Did you hear?" Ben blurts out.

"About your father? I did," Snoke says, jangling his keys.

"It's our fault," Ben chokes out.

Snoke presses his lips together, as if annoyed, and then sighs. "Come inside."

Ben follows Snoke up the familiar stairs, past familiar faces and past the stoic face of Armitage Hux. _Do they know? Do they all know, or suspect?_ Good grief, if Hux could figure it out, anyone could.

Snoke unlocks his office, and Ben ducks inside. Snoke rolls back his chair, taking a seat. Ben notices the other chair isn't there, and Snoke makes no offers. "Yes?"

"I didn't want this. I didn't want any of it," Ben blurts out.

Snoke raises his pencil-thin eyebrow, the one that's only half there. "Any of it? Didn't you want the prestige? Didn't you want to break an important story?"

Snoke's words pour water into his lungs. Ben coughs. "But—"

"All stories, all words, have _consequences_ ," Snoke informs him. "Ones we can't foresee."

Ben gulps.

_I did this._

_I'm a murderer._

Ben's suddenly struck with the memory of his father chasing him through the thicket outside their regular house one spring day, when the air smelled like earth and all Ben could hear was his father laughing until he caught Ben, scooping him into his arms. " _Gotcha!"_

"Are you thinking of coming forward as the source?" Snoke asks. "I can't imagine that would go very well for you, given your family. Your mother has enough to deal with. Can you imagine how she'd feel if she knew about you? She might join your father in the hospital."

Ben clenches his fists. "I can't let—"

"You can't fix what you've done," Snoke tells him, a gleam in his eyes, a gleam Ben doesn't understand. "And you may find that I'm suddenly less willing to write any kind of recommendation."

_What's a recommendation to my father's life?_

But if he can't change it… Ben swallows.

"I'd encourage you to think long and hard before you say anything," Snoke says.

Ben _can't_ say anything. His jaw feels as if it's been wired shut.

"And I'd encourage you to get out, so we can get to work. Your father's attack certainly merits the front page."

Ben feels as if Snoke's slapped him. He takes a step back. Snoke's already focused on his monitor, and Ben knows he might as well be a rag ready to be thrown in the laundry. He feels so _used_.

When Ben leaves, he doesn't know where to go. Surely not home. Instead, Ben wanders down towards the private beaches, the ones he doesn't care about going to, and finds a rocky cove, where he remembers Mom and Dad taking him once.

Ben grabs a rock and slams it into his side, into his knee, into his chest, again and again, and somehow, even though he screams at himself—aloud or in his head, he's not even sure—he still dulls the blows before they can do serious damage, and he hates himself for it.

* * *

"Ben."

He hears the voice but can barely register it. It's familiar. Accented. The sun shines in the bright light of late morning, glinting against the waves. He aches all over.

"What are you doing down here? Everyone's looking for you." A rock clatters. Someone curses.

A hand lands on his shoulder, and Ben jumps, whirling around to see Cassian Andor watching him with a frown. Cassian's expression changes to shock.

_What?_

"Is he gone?" Ben forces himself to ask.

Cassian shakes his head. "No. our father is—hanging in there." He grits his teeth. "You look hurt."

 _Shit._ Ben looks at his bruised knuckles and sees blood seeping through his knee. "I fell."

Cassian clearly doesn't buy it. He holds out his hand. "Come on. Your mother needs you."

 _She doesn't. She never has_. Ben doesn't move.

Cassian sighs. "Ben. Come."

Ben shakes his head, but he comes, climbing over the rocks and trudging after Cassian.

He barely focuses during the walk back to his house. Cassian doesn't speak. When Cassian opens the door and the air-conditioning slaps Ben, he flinches. Voices echo inside, and the aroma of coffee turns his stomach.

"I have Ben," calls Cassian.

"Oh, thank God," Uncle Luke's voice comes as he rounds the corner into the entryway. He stops and gapes at Ben.

Grandfather—not Grandfather—appears beside him, and his face crumples. "Oh, Ben."

"Leave me alone," is all Ben can manage. His phone buzzes in his pocket; it's probably Rey.

"Ben," Uncle Luke starts. "You can't run off like that—especially with all that's happened. We were all worried sick when your mother came back and found that you hadn't come down to us—"

"I didn't want to see him like that." It comes out harsh and bitter.

Uncle Luke pauses. Grandfather sighs.

"But you wouldn't understand that, would you?" Ben snaps. "So I failed to see him. So I failed at being a son. Who the fuck is surprised? I've failed at everything else in life!" _Reporting, Being popular. Making friends._ He raises his fist again.

"Hey!" Cassian lunges at him.

"Stop!" Luke grabs his fist, and Ben glares at his uncle, hating him in this moment, hating him because he succeeded, against all odds, in every area Ben's failed at despite the odds. _And you don't know. You don't know._

"Ben, listen to me," Grandfather pleads. "You are not a failure. This is not your fault."

 _It is! You're so stupid_. But Ben hates himself now for blaming his grandfather when he doesn't know because Ben doesn't want him to know. He's failing at being a decent human being. _Why can't I?_

"It's going to be okay," Uncle Luke assures him, still gripping his wrist. "Listen to me, too, Ben. Your father's a fighter. He's tough. He'll—"

_Don't say it; we don't know that it's true, don't promise me something you can't deliver!_

"You're not a failure," Uncle Luke says, and Cassian and Grandfather both nod, as if it's true.

But the one person he wants to hear from isn't here.

* * *

She comes within twenty minutes, straight from the hospital. She bursts through the door, eyes settling on him. Tears spring to them, and Ben can't stand it—can't stand to see his mother cry.

"My goodness," gasps Threepio, taking the sight of him in.

"Ben," she says, and that's all it takes for him to turn on his heel and run.

_You can't hug me. You can't comfort me. I did this!_

He slams the door and immediately punches himself for it.

"Ben!" The door bangs open. _Why didn't I lock it?_

He expects her to scream at him, yell _did you do this to yourself?_ But instead she drops to the foot of the bed, drenched in sunlight, and reaches for him.

He pulls back.

She stops, and simply sits there. Ben presses his face into a pillow. _You're acting like a pathetic child!_

"Why aren't you with Dad?" he manages.

"Because you need me."

"I don't."

"Ben," she says. "Talk to me."

_I don't want to be Kylo Ren._

_It's too late._

He knows he'll never say those words and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to ignore the dull ache throbbing in his forehead.

When Ben wakes up, she's still there, talking in low voices with Uncle Luke and Cassian.

"Keep an eye on him," Cassian says.

 _Who?_ Ben tenses.

"I plan to," Mom says. "Han will understand."

* * *

"Hey, Finn," Mrs. Dameron says as she steps back to let him in.

He manages a small smile. Rey's still sleeping, or at least she hasn't answered her phone. Poe texted that he couldn't sleep.

 _That makes two of us_. Rey's last text, sent at six in the morning, said that Ben had run out of the hospital distraught. Maz told Finn that they'd since found him.

_Distraught, or guilt-ridden?_

"Hey!" Poe's smile lights up his face as he bounds into the kitchen. Butterflies flutter in Finn's stomach.

"Do you want some chips or pretzels?" Mrs. Dameron asks.

"Sure," Poe says. "Thanks, Mom." He leads Finn to the living room, where they both sit on the leather furniture. "I still can't believe this."

"Me neither," Finn agrees.

"Ms. Organa doesn't deserve this," Poe says. "And neither does Mr. Solo."

"I know," Finn says, chest tightening. "They're good people. Han helped me so much, with my job and all." Baze told him not to come into work.

"I hope he pulls though," Poe says as his mother comes in, bringing two cans of cola and a bowl of chips. "You're the best."

She rolls her eyes and leave as Finn calls his thanks.

"If people really hate Darth Vader so much, why don't they go after him?" Finn asks. "Ms. Organa wasn't even raised by him."

"I don't know." Poe digs in for a handful of potato chips and motions for Finn to do the same. "Mom says they feel betrayed, probably."

"That's not fair."

"No," Poe agrees. "But it's the way people are, I think."

 _Nothing's fair_. Finn crunches down on a handful of the salty chips. "I know."

Poe looks troubled as he sips the soda. "Finn—about last night—"

Finn glances behind Poe. "Your parents—"

"They like you," Poe says. "And let's just say when I told Mom I was gay, she said she knew."

"Oh." Finn relaxes. "I haven't ever kissed a guy before. Or a girl, for that matter."

"I have," Poe admits. "But more for, like, show, just because I could. I haven't actually dated someone before."

 _Dated?_ Finn blinks.

"Would you want to?" Poe asks. "Date, I mean?"

"I figured kissing would make that clear," Finn jokes, still keeping his voice low. "But are you sure?"

Poe runs his hand through his hair, grasping his knee. "You mean because we'll be in different places after the summer, or because you're you?"

Finn's silent. _Both_.

Poe blows out his breath. "You want to know why I like you, Finn? Because you stood up for me. Because that's your personality. You do the right thing. I try to, too, but you're—you inspire me."

Finn wouldn't have pegged Poe as the kind of guy who would need any inspiration. He doesn't know what to say. _Me?_ "I—I mean, I'm so—it's the opposite for me. You're kind of everything I always wished I was."

"I don't think so," Poe says as he leans forward and takes Finn's hand. "You've had to be a lot braver than I've had to be, and you're—"

"So I shouldn't try to become like you?" Finn jokes, mentally picturing the nights he lay away, wishing he was like Poe.

Poe snorts. "You can try." He winks. "But there's only one of me and one of you, and personally, I like you the way you are, Finn."

Finn laughs, and the hope in Poe's eyes—it's contagious.

And then he remembers, and his mood sours.

"What's wrong?" Poe asks.

"It's hard to do the right thing when you don't know what the right thing is," Finn says at last.

"What do you mean?" Poe asks, dark hair falling over his forehead.

"I mean—" Finn clears his throat. "Don't you think it's strange that when Ben Solo's working for the _First Order_ , they publish this piece revealing who his mother's birth father is? And supposedly part of the article is written by a Kylo Ren, but I heard Maz saying she's never heard the name before, and if she's never heard of him—"

Poe's jaw drops. "But he wouldn't. That'd be—cruel."

"Didn't he give you a black eye?"

Poe drags his fingers through his hair. "I mean—that's—really awful. If it's true. He was so upset—"

"Maybe because he feels guilty," Finn says.

Poe groans, leaning his head against the side of the couch. "I hope it's not true."

"If it is," Finn says. "Rey's gonna kill him."


	17. Chapter 17

_**Twenty-five years ago** _

"He's dying," says Mon Mothma over the phone. "The doctors say there's nothing they can do—they encourage you to come to the hospital."

 _This can't be happening_. "He was just fine this morning," Jyn blurts out. He watched her eat her cereal—he smiled at her— _you're not dying, you're not!_

A car accident, and he's apparently asked for them to let him go.

 _But I still need you,_ Jyn thinks wildly as her thumb absently punches the red _end_ button. She crouches on the ground, her brain swimming in images, in memories. _Saw._

_More my father in a few months than my own._

"Jyn?"

She ignores the voice. She sees her mother, falling to the ground again. She sees Saw comforting her in that emergency room, because her father was too grief-stricken.

"Jyn." Someone kneels beside her. She feels a hand land on her shoulder and flinches.

Cassian stares at her, eyes troubled. "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head. Blood pumps in her ears, but her legs won't work. She can't move.

"Jyn?" He helps her to her feet, and she stumbles. His arms catch her around the waist. She sees Bodhi staring at her—the kids are all napping—eyes wide.

"Jyn," calls another voice. A voice she trusts. Jyn whirls around, wrenching herself away from Cassian to see Chirrut standing just outside. She staggers towards him.

"Baze saw the accident," Chirrut tells her. "We can take you to the hospital. You want to go, don't you?"

She nods. The car's up ahead, with Baze behnd the wheel. She makes her way towards it, boots pounding the pavement.

"What's going on?" Cassian asks.

"She can't leave," objects Kaytoo. "She's doing community—"

"Saw Gerrera's dying," Chirrut says, and Jyn wants to cover her ears, scream that it's not happening, but of course it is, and Jyn's never one to shy away from reality.

She forces herself into the car. Baze says nothing, simply gives her a smile, and Jyn's composure almost shatters.

Behind her, she hears the door open again. Chirrut slides into the front seat, and beside her, in the back, Cassian and Bodhi cram themselves in. "Kaytoo's gonna come as soon as the parents come," Cassian says. "Raddus still needs _some_ help."

"Why are you here?" Jyn hears herself ask as the motor rumbles.

"Because they're your friends," Chirrut says. "And mine."

_Huh?_

"You shouldn't have to be alone," Bodhi insists.

Cassian just watches her as she shakes her head. "You don't want us?"

Jyn swallows, her fog lifting as the car jerks forwards. "I'm not used to people wanting to stick around when things go to shit."

Cassian's eyes flicker. "Welcome home."

* * *

Jyn breaks into a run when they enter the hospital and an orderly yells at her. She ignores him and skids up to the information desk. "Saw Gerrera," she gasps out. "I—I'm his adopted daughter. His foster daughter. Jyn Erso."

The woman gives her the room number, and Jyn charges off, her friends on her heels. She makes it to the ward, and then only she's allowed in.

"We'll be waiting right here," Chirrut promises her, Baze's arm around his shoulders. Cassian nods at her, and something warm flits through Jyn's belly.

_Welcome home._

Jyn enters the room, filled with whirring machines, the bed blocked off by a dull salmon curtain.

The lump on the bed can't be Saw. A bloodied bandage wraps his skull, and his left arm is clearly broken, as are his legs. As she approaches, his eyes open and find her.

_He's awake._

Jyn grasps his hand, squeezing it so tightly she's surprised the bones don't shatter. His skin is so cold, and Jyn hates the tears scraping at her eyes.

He gasps, and Jyn panics.

"Jyn," he croaks out.

"Don't talk," she orders. "It's too—"

"There's not much time," he rasps.

Jyn grits her teeth. "Saw—"

"You have to find your father."

Jyn shakes her head. "You were more of a father to me, Saw." Dad was barely ever around.

"He has his reasons," Saw croaks. "I have—" He inhales. "A letter." He gestures to the bedside table.

Jyn blinks.

"Open it," Saw rasps. It sounds so close to a beg. Jyn hates it.

She reaches out and takes the papers.

_Dear Saw,_

It's written in her father's handwriting. Jyn's heart thumps harder. Her stomach clamps. Her fingers shake.

_I hope you'll tell me how Jyn is again. I miss her so much, but she's right—I haven't been much of a father to her, and I regret it so much._

At least he acknowledges it. Jyn snorts.

_This work has consumed everything from me, and for what? Hopefully we'll know soon, but it's looking more and more like K is going to figure it out first. As for Jyn, my Stardust, please tell her that I love her. I just want her to be happy, and if that's with you, I understand._

_You don't,_ Jyn thinks. _You don't care, you can't care._

_Has she told you any interesting stories from the daycare? If so, please tell me—I'd rather hear them from her, but I'd rather from you than not at all. She's so like Lyra, you know. I'm proud of her._

_Galen_

The lump in Jyn's throat breaks, and she squeezes her eyes shut. It does no good. Like snakes, the tears worm their way down her face.

_You're proud of me?_

_Why can't you say it to my face?_

"Who's K?" Jyn manages.

"Orson Krennic," Saw chokes out. "Your father's been—working—as an informant—"

 _The man in white?_ But Jyn doesn't understand. "For what?"

"He's not a perfect man—Jyn," Saw wheezes. "He—loves you though."

There are more letters here, lots more. _Does he write Saw every day?_

Saw coughs, his breath long and haunted. Jyn turns back to him, gripping his hand again.

_Please don't go._

She's terrified of losing him. She lost her mother, she lost her father to this—work, whatever it is—and now Saw.

_I don't want to keep losing._

…

When Jyn leaves the ward almost three hours later, her face is gray and her eyes swollen. Cassian's heart drops.

She doesn't even need to say the words.

"I'm so sorry," Bodhi ekes out.

"Me, too," Kaytoo says, having just arrived.

Chirrut says nothing, but he squeezes her shoulder. Baze embraces her.

"I don't know where I'm going to go," Jyn says aloud. Her left hand clutches a pile of white papers—are they letters?

 _Oh, shit_. Cassian doesn't even know what to say to that. "Jyn—"

"Fuck it," Jyn says, and then she tears the letters in her hands up, tripping and shredding them until the paper shards fall like snow to the ground.

"What's that?" Bodhi questions.

"Letters from my father. My real father. Although I suppose that depends on how you define _real father,_ because by another definition, my real father's lying dead in that ward back there." Jyn laughs bitterly, and the sound rattles Cassian. "He wrote to Saw but not to his daughter."

"Jyn, take a seat," Cassian invites. She needs to calm down. He's seen it before—the shock, the anger.

"He's working as an informant on Krennic," Jyn spits. She ignores him.

"I know," Bodhi interjects. "He told me so—when I was smuggling—he helped me. They couldn't link Krennic to it, but Galen—I thought he was working on it—"

"I'm glad he loved you," Jyn says, and then she turns on her heels and storms off.

Bodhi blinks, hurt.

"I'll go after her," Cassian says, shrugging back into his jacket.

"Let her mourn," Chirrut says.

Cassian halts. "So I shouldn't—" He does not like the idea of leaving Jyn Erso alone right now. He remembers what Draven told him about her—she's the opposite of Cassian. She'll never obey an order.

"No," Chirrut says. "Go. But when you meet her, let her mourn."

 _Whatever._ Cassian doesn't have time to think about those words. He takes off, speeding down the hallway. Jyn wouldn't have taken the elevators. Cassian pounds down the stairwells, calling her name once, twice, but no answer. He hears a door slam and reaches the ground floor.

There she is, just outside the glass panes of the hospital's exit, standing there bewildered. The valet heads over to her, but she brushes past him without a word.

"Jyn!" Cassian hollers as he steps outside. The heat infuses him, and he regrets wearing the jacket.

She turns around and snorts when she sees him approaching. A hot breeze sets dark strands of hair flapping against her cheeks.

_Let her mourn._

_What does that even mean?_ Cassian's never had time for that.

He remembers his dad, dead in a shoot-out with police. And then prosecutors were saying _he's so young,_ and offering him a deal Draven told him to take.

"Jyn," he says, and she marches off to a wooden bench. Cassian follows, easing himself beside her.

"So he had his reasons," Jyn says finally. "But no one bothered to tell me."

Cassian opens his mouth, and then closes it. His father, too, did bad things because he believed in his cause. Cassian joined him, following in his footsteps. But he'd taken Cassian along, not more or less abandoned him like Jyn's father did to her.

Cassian remembers, three days after they started working together, Jyn aghast at Bodhi when she heard he turned himself in. " _Why would you do that?"_

" _It was the right thing." Bodhi said, uncomfortable. "Or so someone told me."_

 _Galen Erso,_ Cassian now realizes. It's a name he's heard many times from Draven. "I'm sorry," Cassian says.

Jyn kicks at a pebble. And then she leans forward, burying her face in her hands. Her shoulders shake, but no sounds come out.

And Cassian remembers those nights, after he saw what his father did, after his father died, after Draven took him in, when he would have given anything to cry, but when his throat ached and his chest spasmed, he pressed his face into a pillow, muffling any sound and muffling his own breath.

Seeing Jyn in pain hurts him. _You're brave,_ he wants to tell her. _You'll make it._

She straightens, wiping at her nose and looking to him. Her eyes run, and blotches cover her cheeks.

Cassian wraps his arms around her, and she doesn't pull away. She presses her face into his neck, and he tightens his hold.

She's not crying, but she's not alone.

* * *

Mon Mothma takes Jyn in, because her father claims he isn't sure Jyn wants to see him.

"I don't," Jyn lies.

One good thing about Mon Mothma is that she trusts Cassian Andor, and she lets Jyn go to the beach for a bonfire one week after Saw's passing. Baze has a bottle of vodka, but he refuses to share it with Jyn.

"Sorry, little sister," he tells her, and Jyn scowls, but in reality she's almost touched that he cared enough to refuse.

Bodhi, Cassian, and Kaytoo clearly wouldn't have even asked.

"So what's your story?" Jyn asks as she holds her marshmallow over the fire. Sugar will do nicely to chip away at the pressing sadness. "You and Chirrut?"

"What do you mean?" Baze asks.

"How did you meet?"

Chirrut laughs. "College. He dropped out of studying theology after Theology 101 though. I continued."

Baze rolls his eyes. "Waste of time."

"It is not, and it bothers you that you know it's not."

"They sound like an old married couple," Kaytoo jokes.

Jyn pulls her marshmallow back, mashing it between two graham crackers and a hefty dose of chocolate. She bites in. "Have you ever played truth or dare?"

"No," says Cassian.

"Yes!" exclaims Bodhi.

"I always say the truth anyways," Kaytoo mutters.

"We should play," Jyn says. "I used to always want to go to slumber parties, because all the girls in books and movies would play it."

"You never played it either?" Cassian questions.

"We lived too remotely, until Mom died." Jyn retrieves another marshmallow from the bag. "I played last year, at a party."

"She took Dare," Chirrut says.

"Yeah, anyone who's been around Jyn for more than five minutes could tell you that," Cassian says.

"Excuse me?" _Are you saying I'm a liar?_

_Are you thinking you're not?_

Cassian's hands fly up. "Just—you like doing daring things. You take risks."

His tone isn't accusatory or placating—it's honest. Jyn blinks.

"Your marshmallow is burning," Baze warns her.

"What was your dare?" Bodhi asks. Stars wink above them. The ocean crashes in the distance.

"Drinking an entire bottle of wine," Jyn answers. Her marshmallow's burned, but still edible. She concocts another s'more.

Kaytoo groans.

"I did it," she adds. She'll never touch wine again.

"And then you were probably sick for a day, maybe even hospitalized," Cassian grumbles.

She shrugs.

"Let's play," Chirrut says.

Baze groans. "I'm sitting this one out."

"But you can't!" protests Bodhi. "We all have to play."

"It'll be fun, Baze," Chirrut insists.

"Who goes first?" Jyn questions.

"Cassian," says Chirrut.

"What?"

"Cassian," Chirrut repeats.

Jyn shrugs and pulls out a third marshmallow. The warmth of the fire caresses her face. "Go for it, boy."

Cassian scowls, digging his feet in the sand. "I—Jyn."

With a sigh, she hands her marshmallow stick to Baze. "Yes?"

"Truth or Dare?"

"Dare," she says without blinking. His lips curve into an almost smile.

"I dare you to climb that tree back there."

Jyn glances at the palm behind them. Without a word, she gets up, dusting the sand off her pants. It takes less than five minutes for her to haul herself up, Bodhi chanting her name and cheering for her. When she reaches the top, Jyn grips the branch and turns to look down. Cassian claps, a grin on his face.

Her shirt's riding up, but Jyn can't think about pulling it down until she gets to the ground. When she lands, she grabs her marshmallow stick from Baze. Her gaze surveys the group, but her victim's never been in doubt. "Kaytoo."

He swears. "Dare."

"Really?" Jyn blinks. She hadn't been expecting that.

"If I say Truth, you will probably ask me about who my first crush was, my first kiss, whether or not I've ever thought of killing you, or something equally awkward-making for all of us."

 _Not bad,_ Jyn thinks. "I dare you to skinny dip. Not in front of us because none of us want to see that, but we'll know whether or not you're telling the truth."

"Jyn!" exclaims Cassian.

"Thankfully, there's a rocky little cove just over there," Kaytoo says as he stands and mock-bows to her. He returns within ten minutes, dripping wet but with his clothes dry.

"Please tell me no one saw you," Bodhi gasps. "That could be—"

"No one saw me," Kaytoo says.

"I made you a s'more for compensation," Jyn says, offering it to him. He shakes his head at her.

"Baze," Kaytoo says.

Baze groans. Chirrut cackles. "Truth."

"You're no fun," Kaytoo complains. "Fine. What made you quit theology?"

"What kind of a question is that?" yelps Jyn.

"One I genuinely want to know," Kaytoo retorts.

Baze shrugs and concocts his own s'more as he thinks about it. "I didn't like the hypocrisy, and a group of our friends died in a terrible car accident. It's hard to keep your faith after that. Unless you're this fool." He jerks his thumb at Chirrut, who grins in his direction.

"I'm sorry," Jyn says, the flames suddenly writhing in a more sinister fashion. Her breath catches.

"Why do you still believe, Chirrut?" asks Bodhi, leaning forwards. The fire casts his face in an orange glow.

"Because," Chirrut says. "I see love and good in people, and in that, I see God."

Jyn cranes her neck, staring up at the stars.

"Bodhi," Baze says, and Jyn tries to shake off the clouds.

"Uh—dare," Bodhi decides.

"His truth would have been about ten minutes long even if I asked his favorite color," Baze grunts. He hands over the marshmallow bag. "I dare you to stuff your mouth with as many of these as you possibly can."

"Oh!" Bodhi gapes at the bag. "Oh. Okay." He grabs it and goes to work. He gets to about sixteen in before he can't fit anymore, and he looks like an overweight squirrel.

"Funny," Kaytoo comments. "I would have thought your mouth was larger."

Jyn tosses sand at him. Bodhi leans over, working on swallowing.

"Don't choke," Cassian warns.

"Chirrut," Bodhi chokes out, voice garbled.

"Please swallow first," Kaytoo requests.

Bodhi complies. Chirrut straightens, waiting. "Truth."

"Who kissed who first?" Bodhi wants to know.

Chirrut chuckles. "I liked him for the entire first semester, and he thought I didn't know."

"That's because you were flirting with everyone," Baze snaps.

"So finally I asked him to," Chirrut concludes. "After class one Friday."

 _And you're still together,_ Jyn thinks. _Even after Baze's loss of faith._

_That's love._

As if he can read her mind, Chirrut smiles and adds. "His presence increases my faith. His devotion. He told me I could leave, but I didn't want to."

Baze groans and drinks more vodka. Jyn makes another s'more.

"Cassian," Chirrut announces.

Cassian stiffens, glancing nervously at Jyn.

"Well," Chirrut says. "Truth or dare, it will all reveal the same thing, no matter which you choose."

"Chirrut no," Baze protests, as if he knows what's coming.

"I think it's a good plan. He has too many inhibitions," Chirrut says. Baze's eyebrows shoot up and he takes another swig.

"So I'm screwed no matter what," Cassian mutters. "Okay. Dare."

"I dare you to ask the girl you like if you can kiss her."

"That's not fair," Kaytoo protests. "Dares are supposed to be immediate. And how can you possibly know if he likes anyone?"

"People are seldom as subtle as they think they are," Chirrut answers.

Jyn smirks, turning and staring at Cassian. The marshmallow sticks to her mouth, and she struggles to swallow. _Who is she?_

"Even I know," Bodhi says.

Cassian's hands grip his knees.

"Well?" Chirrut prompts.

Cassian turns to her, and something like guilt lines his frown, his drawn brows. "Um—Jyn—IwanttoknowifIcankissyou."

Jyn's heart stops in her chest. _Me?_

_You want to kiss me?_

His eyes lower as if he's ashamed, and that makes Jyn mad, because he shouldn't be. Most boys don't ask her. They kiss her, and she kisses them because _why not._ But Cassian—she remembers him holding her when Saw died, remembers his expression of shock when she saved Pendra.

"Okay," she says. It sounds ridiculous now that she's said it.

"I wish I could choose to believe this isn't happening," Kaytoo remarks.

Cassian gets up from the cut log he's been sitting on, coming closer, sitting next to her. Jyn's heart picks up pace. She's never been nervous before a kiss before. Then again, she's never had four friends watching. Or three watching. Four. Chirrut may not be able to see, but he can tell, she's sure.

Cassian swallows, his eyes open as he leans closer. His breath tickles her nose and smells of chocolate and marshmallows. His hand cups the back of her head, and his lips press into hers. His are chapped but warm, and without even thinking she opens her mouth.

A hoot breaks the moment. Cassian pulls back, his eyes searching hers as if to ask _is this really okay?_

She chuckles, her hand wrapped around his shoulders, and Cassian's face relaxes into a smile.

 _I like you, too_ , Jyn thinks, and she knows he understands.

Bodhi's clapping. Baze grins, Kaytoo buries his face in his hands, and Chirrut laughs and laughs.


	18. Chapter 18

"Of course he's upset," Obi-wan says into the phone, talking to Mace again. "He's his father, no matter how much they fight." Rey catches a strange look flitting over Obi-wan's face, as if he's remembering something. He shakes his head and goes back to his conversation.

Storm clouds brew overhead, and Rey glances out the window. A dog woofs, and she spots Anakin taking Artoo out. Rey slips out the door. To hell with whether or not Obi-wan would approve. Artoo spots her almost immediately and zooms over, planting his paws on Rey's thighs. She can't laugh, but she drops to the ground and wraps her arms around him.

"Good afternoon, Rey," Anakin says, hobbling over to her.

She nods at him. "How are you doing?"

He sighs. "Worried."

"Have you tried to talk to her? Ms.—Leia?" Rey presses.

Anakin shakes his head. "That would just make things worse. She needs to focus on her husband right now."

"I don't know," Rey says. "As disappointed as I might have been in my parents, I would still appreciate it if they reached out to me."

Anakin's eyes soften. "I'm sorry."

Rey picks up a stick and tosses it. Artoo barks and chases.

"People react differently to the same things," Anakin says. "Because every human being is different. That's something I didn't learn until it was too late, but you can learn it now."

"Maybe," Rey says as she takes the stick from Artoo and throws it again, farther this time. "Or maybe you're just afraid." She remembers all those birthdays, particularly right after they left her, when she waited by the phone, desperate for it to ring, all the nights she prayed and no one and nothing answered. No magic fairies, no God, no parents. "Maybe you're a coward."

Anakin's brow creases. "I don't know if you know _who_ you think you're talking to right now, Rey."

For a moment she almost thinks it's a threat, and then she realizes what he means and her stomach drops. _Am I talking to Obi-Wan?_

"Rey," a voice calls from behind her, and she sees Finn waiting there, at the corner of the house.

"Good talking to you, Rey," Anakin says.

She can't decide if he's humoring her or mocking her. Rey heads over to Finn, Anakin taking over the stick for Artoo.

"What's he have to say?" Finn asks.

"Not much," Rey says vaguely. She shivers. The skies look even darker. "Ben won't answer my texts."

Finn blows out his breath. "Yeah… Poe and I—well, me, mostly, I guess—have an idea about that."

"What do you mean?" They're heading to the front steps, where Rey drops down. One of Obi-wan's spider-plants dangles about their heads. Finn sits next to her, fumbling to pick up a small quartz rock and rolling it between his thumb and index finger.

"I mean…" Finn gulps. "Look, I don't want you to hate me for saying this, all right?"

Rey blinks, not understanding. "Why would I hate you, Finn? You're my friend."

His face relaxes into a smile. "It's serious, though."

"Okay…" Rey rests her chin on her fist.

"I think Ben is Kylo Ren."

_Kylo Ren?_

_The reporter who helped write that article,_ Rey recalls. Her shoulders feel stiff, and her head throbs.

"It's just too convenient—there's no record of him, and the summer Ben interns for Snoke someone writes this article and tips him off? I—"

"He knew," Rey breathes. "He knew before—because I—" Her fists curl.

"You think so?" Finn asks.

_You did this._

_To your own family._

_Your own father._

She grits her teeth, white-hot rage shooting through her. _How could you? How could you do it?_

"I mean, I don't know if we should say anything," Finn says. "I don't know if it would help—it'd certainly make Leia feel worse, or that's what Poe says and I think he's right. But—"

"Maybe not to adults," Rey agrees. "But I'm sure as hell calling that piece of shit right now." _Was it all an act? All those tears, the shock?_ Her hands shake as she dials.

Finn waits beside her.

 _Pick up,_ she thinks. _You better pick up, you asshole._

"What?" he snaps.

 _Why did I ever think you were anything more than a bully_? Rey swallows. "You did this, didn't you?"

"What?" Ben sounds genuinely confused.

"You're Kylo Ren," Rey says. "You're him. You wrote that article, you—"

He sucks in his breath. "Why would you think that?"

 _You're not denying it._ The hope she didn't even know she was holding onto snaps and shatters. "Why would you _do_ that?"

"Why do you think I—"

"Finn and I both think so. And Poe. You worked there, Ben, you knew beforehand—you _played_ me."

"I would never—you think I wanted my father to get shot?" Ben cries out. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

"A monster," Rey spits, _wanting_ to hurt him. "Why, Ben? You have your family. They love you, however imperfectly—why would you do something like this?"

"Love?" he shouts. "Love, when they lied to me for—"

"Oh, boo hoo, they were still around! You still got to go home to them and call them _Mom_ and _Dad_!"

"What would you know about that? You think it's all happiness and joy when you've got a family? You wouldn't even know! Neither would Finn!"

His words lacerate her. Rey doubles over.

"Don't you say that to her!" Finn yells.

"Not all of us can be like you, Finn, fine without a family around," Ben says, voice hard. "Because having a home to go to doesn't make—"

"You leave Finn alone," Rey snaps.

"And you're fine with him accusing me?" Ben snarls.

 _Are you jealous?_ "Congratulations," Rey says, fighting back tears. "I hope your own career is worth your father's life."

"You think I wanted this to happen?" he cries again.

"You should have known it was a possibility!"

He's silent, but Rey can hear him breathing, harsh and angry.

"You need help," Rey informs him. "And I don't care to help you." She hangs up.

"Sorry," Finn says.

"Don't be." She wants to pound her fists against the wooden steps, tear up that stupid spider plant, do _something_.

Because, if possible, she feels even lonelier than ever before, even with Finn sitting right next to her.

* * *

Obi-wan sends Rey out to pick up takeout for dinner. So far Han's still hanging in there, and Rey knows she's a fool for hoping he recovers, but she can't help it. _Please. Please_ , she asks the starless sky. _Please, God, fairies, anyone._

"Hey Rey," says a voice behind her as she lugs a bag full of fish and fries back to the house.

She spins around to see Jyn Erso there, circles hanging under her eyes. "Hey."

"You hanging in there?" Jyn asks.

 _No._ But Rey shrugs. "Anything new?"

"Not that I've heard." Jyn presses her lips together. "Ben's not doing too well."

 _And he deserves it,_ Rey thinks bitterly. _And maybe Anakin deserves it too._ Maybe they all do. The thoughts make her feel grimy, as if she needs to pour scalding water over her brain. Aloud she says: "Well, he and his dad never got along. Maybe he's regretting that now."

"I'm willing to bet he is," Jyn says. The woman sighs, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "I never got along with my father growing up. He wasn't there enough, and I thought his absence meant he didn't care. I felt abandoned, even if we legally has the same address."

"That's not abandonment," Rey says harshly.

Jyn turns to her. "I don't know if someone else gets to define how anyone else perceives what's happening to them."

Rey bites her lip, shame curdling in her stomach.

"He loves me," Jyn says. "I know that now. But it didn't always feel like that, and when someone feels unloved, they're angry. They like to lash out."

Rey remembers more than a few fistfights she got into during her time at Jakku. She snorts. "I know."

Jyn grins at her. "I know Han loves his son, regardless of what Ben thinks. Because that's probably what he's most afraid of right now: that his dad doesn't really love him, not enough, and he'll never feel that loved, and it'll mean he's deficient. But it's not true. And I'm sure Ben loves his father."

 _I wouldn't be too sure_. Although Rey's mind spins, wondering, remembering a little girl clutching her rag doll, huddling under her threadbare quilt.

_Do I deserve to be loved?_

_If they dumped me, does it mean there's something wrong with me?_

She remembers Obi-wan's conversations, and digs her nails into her palms. The pain brings no relief, and she quickly shifts her fingers.

_Couldn't he have been you?_

_Couldn't you have been him?_

_If they kept me, who's to say I wouldn't have grown up hating them?_

_I don't hate them. I love them. I want them. And I hate them so much I could punch them in the chest, screaming._

"Rey?"

"Where's your dad now?" she questions, shaking off the fog. Tears burn at the back of her eyes.

"He lives an hour or so from here. Cassian and I see him every month." Jyn blows her hair away from her mouth. "He's a respected scientist."

Rey nods, taking in Jyn's dark hair, her hazel eyes. She almost looks as if she could be Rey's mother. "How come you all stayed in this town?"

Jyn shrugs. "We grew up here. I liked it, and it worked out to stay. And I wanted to work for the nonprofit, to help kids from ending up in my situation. To make them feel wanted and needed, if only for a summer."

Rey frowns, rubbing her eyes. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Even if it might be offensive?" Rey presses.

"I'm not that easily offended, Rey."

"How come you didn't have children?"

Jyn blinks. "I did. We do."

"Really?" Rey's face floods with warmth. "I'm—"

"Your friend Finn's one of them. I just send my kids along their way at the end of one summer." Jyn nods.

 _What about me?_ Rey wants to cry out. _Do I count?_ A flock of seagulls swoop overhead, calling to each other, and she watches them in envy, because at least they have ach other.

"You and Obi-Wan will work it out. I promise. I know he's old and crotchety and doesn't know quite what to do with a teenager, but he's glad you're here." Jyn casts her a look that says she knows exactly what Rey's thinking.

"You're not the first person to say that to me," Rey admits.

"Well, it's true." Jyn taps at the bag of food, smelling of salt and oil. "You should get home."

_Home._

_Is it home?_

Rey doesn't know, but she nods and scurries off to the gravel path, unusually dark tonight. The stars stay hidden.

* * *

"Rey," Obi-Wan says as he hangs up the phone. Rey's helping herself to the last of the French fries, dipping them in ketchup. "Have you heard from Ben this afternoon?"

"We had a fight over the phone," Rey says, staring at her grandfather without blinking.

Obi-Wan's eyebrows rise, and he shakes his head as if to say _I don't want to know_. "Well, that was Threepio. They can't find him."

The fries turn to mush in Rey's mouth. "Again?"

"Apparently." Obi-Wan presses his lips together, but he doesn't ask Rey to try to contact Ben. "I'm going to go around the town with Luke and look for him. Stay here, all right?"

Rey nods, grabbing her phone and texting Finn.

 _Ben, please don't do anything stupid,_ she thinks.

She watches through the window as Obi-Wan and Luke climb into her grandfather's car. Anakin comes out to the porch, staring after them with a wistful look on his face.

He catches Rey staring, and retreats inside.

* * *

"Obi-Wan Kenobi!" booms Chirrut as Finn prepares to close down the shop. They did open, in the end, but only for a few evening hours that Finn eagerly volunteered for. If he can't be with Poe—and the Damerons insisted on visiting the Organas, and Finn felt uncomfortable there—he needs to be busy else wise. He doesn't want to think of whether or not Han Solo might be dying at that very moment.

"Good evening, Chirrut," Obi-Wan says.

"Any news?" Baze grunts.

Obi-Wan shakes his head. "Finn." His gaze focuses on him.

"Um, yes?" Finn stammers.

"Luke and I are searching for Ben. He appears to have left sometime around six and he's not answering his phone."

"Isn't that exactly what happened this morning?" Baze asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, but Leia's worried. He's not in a good frame of mind." Obi-Wan's eyes scour Finn.

"I haven't heard from him," Finn says honestly. "I talked to him this afternoon with Rey, and not since then." He slides his phone out and sees several texts from Rey.

_Ben's missing._

_Do you think it's because of what I said?_

_No, I think it's because he's a tool who can't handle the truth being levied at him,_ Finn responds.

"All right," Obi-Wan says with a sigh. He turns to leave.

The moment the glass door shut, Chirrut turns to Finn. "I imagine whatever you're keeping from him doesn't concern Ben's location?"

 _What?_ Finn's hands fly up. "I have no idea where he is!"

"No," Chirrut agrees. "You don't. But you know something."

"Just—" Finn swallows. "He was very upset this afternoon. Angry. Not entirely sensible. Not that he often is," he adds. "But worse."

"Shit," Baze groans. "Chirrut?"

Chirrut holds out his hand to Finn, keys dangling. "We trust you to close up the shop."

"Are you sure?" Finn blurts out.

"Don't make us regret it," Baze grunts.

"We trust you," Chirrut repeats. "We're going to go find Leia's son."

 _Where the hell are you, Ben?_ Finn wonders as the door shuts. He hears Rey's voice from earlier: _you're a monster._

Ben is.

Isn't he?


	19. Chapter 19

_**Twenty-three years ago** _

Han steps off the bus in the town he hasn't been since last summer. His joints ache, and he knows he lost weight in prison.

Lando wrote to him. _Lando_ , of all people.

_I'm so sorry. I was in a bind, but that's no excuse. I want to make things right. If you come back, we can make things right._

How, Han has no idea. He'll never get those eight months back. Thanks for freaking Vader and that slimy Palpatine, the judge threw the book at Han.

What hurt worse was not receiving a single letter from Leia, or Luke, the entire time. Do they actually think he's guilty?

_I love you._

_I know._

Now, he doesn't know if she still loves him. Maybe they're hooking up. If so—good for them. Leia deserves someone wholesome, someone to make her family proud, someone brave and humble like Luke. Not like Han.

He squints in the sunlight, trying to make out familiar faces. Hopefully not Vader. If he sees that cop, it'll probably be straight back to the can for him.

Chewie races to him, grabbing him so hard Han groans. "Don't break my back there, Chewie," he grunts.

Someone grabs him by the shoulders. "Hey, who—"

"It's someone who loves you," says the voice he dreams of at night. Before he can even see her, Han feels Leia's lips against his. His heart lifts. _You're here._

_You didn't forget me._

_You love me._

"Hey," says a voice to his left. Han spins to see Luke standing there, dressed all in black as if he's turning into a Goth, but without the makeup. And as he grabs Luke in a hug, he sees Lando.

His one-time friend clears his throat. "Han, I'm sorry."

Chewie snorts.

"What are you all doing here?" Han asks.

"I talked to an old friend," Leia says. "Jyn Erso. She gave Luke and me an idea." Her eyes meet Han's, and they burn and snap with the intensity Han finds intoxicating. "We're going to take down Vader and Palpatine once and for all, before they use their power to ruin any more lives of people I love."

* * *

" _Dad, I have to!" Leia cried out. It was late spring, and Luke came to visit at last. For the first few months after last summer, Luke refused to contact her, and Leia was left to determine her life mission of fighting injustice, because she refused to see anyone end up like Han._

" _It's not a good idea, Leia, it's far safer if we—I care about Han too, but—"_

" _Mr. Organa," Luke said, standing. "I_ know _."_

_Dad blinked, the spring air suddenly chilled. Leia rubbed her arms._

" _I know who Vader is to me, and I know who she is to me. I found the records," Luke said, jerking his hand towards Leia. "Don't you think you should tell her?"_

_Dad turned to Leia, and she could see pain in his eyes. He covered his mouth._

Who Vader is to me… _Leia knew._

Who she is to me…

_Leia turned to Luke, reality clicking even as her stomach turned. "You're my brother."_

_He nodded. Dad didn't protest._

That makes Vader my father.

My biological father tried to ruin my real father.

" _Dad," Leia choked out, her stomach churning. She could vomit right then; she really could._ You're my father. _"You and Mom always told me to do what was right no matter the consequences, didn't you?"_

_He didn't change his mind right then, but he hugged her, and Leia knew somehow, that she had made him proud._

"So that's the plan?" Han asks incredulously. "Don't you realize what we're risking? Especially me?"

"I'm asking you to trust me," Luke says, pressing his fingertips together.

"What would Obi-Wan say?" Han demands.

 _Fair point,_ Leia thinks. "You know what he's said, Han."

"And you're doing this anyways."

"I don't see any other way," Leia says. "It's not just about what they've done to you, or what they tried to do to my father. They're supposed to protect the town, protect the people, and they're selling that all out to fill their pockets. They don't give a damn about anyone other than themselves, and they won't stop. We need to stop them, and the district attorney doesn't give a damn unless we get hard evidence. Luke can get that."

"But talking with your father?" Han demands. Leia hasn't told him yet that she's Luke's twin sister. She'll wait until they get a private moment.

_I have a brother._

It's strangely fitting, almost as if _of course_ Luke is her brother, as if she's always known. But being Vader's daughter—that sets her stomach knotting, the muscles in her neck stiffening.

"I can do it," Luke says, eyes wide and blue. "I have to. No one else can."

She sure as hell can't. Leia remembers Vader threatening her, what those documents revealed. He would have taken her father away from her because her father took his children, and the pathetic part is, he doesn't even know she's his daughter. At least, she hopes not.

She could almost feel sorry for him. But the anger coils inside her, thick and suffocating.

"Okay," Han says. "Don't let me down, kid. Jail's overrated."

* * *

"Palpatine's route takes him this way," Lando assures them as he cranks up the volume on his boom box. "He won't be able to resist the lure of kids getting wild on a beach. Too much chance of capturing me. He'll go for it, you watch."

"No one actually has alcohol, right?" Chewie grunts.

"Just soda in beer bottles," Lando says smugly. "Imagine his face when we pass the breathalyzer."

Luke can only shake his head. His stomach's doing flip-flops. _I'm going to send my father to jail._

_I'm going to acknowledge him as my father._

_Does he love me? Does he really love me?_ He seemed as though he might, and that love—Luke's clung to that dream of his father's love since he can remember, clung to every mention of his father than Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru care to drop. He drew pictures of himself with his father, an imaginary figure, but so tall, and hung them on the fridge with magnets shaped like trucks.

Leia adjusts her golden bikini, and Luke notices Han watching her. _I have a sister, too._ Aunt Beru took him to see the records.

"Go, Luke," Leia tells him. "We're counting on you."

Luke nods and breaks into a run, tape recorder resting in his pocket. He can her the beats from the raucous party echoing.

" _Luke, there is nothing you can do except move on," Obi-Wan told him. "You and your friends."_

" _Your father has made his choices; now you need to make yours," Yoda said._

He's made his.

He wants his father.

* * *

The police station is quiet, almost deserted just like Lando predicted. Luke's mouth feels as if cotton's been wedged inside.

"Can I help you?" asks a secretary, rolling her eyes.

"I'm here to see Darth Vader." Luke sees no point in using his father's title. _Officer_. He's betrayed it too many times.

"I didn't know he was expecting anyone."

"Tell him his—Luke Skywalker is here to see him." He can't quite say "his son." Not to a stranger. Not yet. _But..._

The woman pushes back in her swivel chair and rises. "Wait here."

Silence eats at Luke. He rubs his arms, trying not to dwell on Obi-Wan's predictions.

Footsteps clack, and Luke's not ready. His heart pounds. He lifts his head.

Darth Vader stands there, gaping at his son.

"Hi Dad," Luke says.

The secretary's jaw drops. Her head swings back and forth.

Dad steps back, holding his arm out as if gesturing for Luke to follow him. Trying to convince himself he isn't betraying his father so much as he's helping his father stop betraying himself and his daughter, Luke follows. His thumb dives into his pocket. He switches the tape recorder on.

Vader ushers him into an office that's surprisingly dull and unsurprisingly dim. Only one lamp, yellow and small, stands in the corner. The wooden walls are blank except for an empty bulletin board. Vader hesitates, and then lifts up a plastic chair that's been stacked with several others in the corner, placing it across the desk, and dumps himself into the fraying chair behind the desk. A small window reveals a parking lot behind him. He gestures for Luke to sit.

"You came to see me."

Luke swallows. "I came to convince you that what you did to Han last summer was wrong, and what you tried to do to Bail Organa the summer before that was cruel. He has a daughter—"

"Who should be thanking me, given the likes of whom she was going out with."

Fury ignites. Luke grips the sharp plastic edges of the chair. "She can make her own decisions. Didn't my mother take a chance on you? Would you want your own daughter to not make her own choices?"

"Your sister is God knows where, thanks to Bail Organa."

 _Good. Motive_. "No," Luke says. "She's right here. She _is_ Leia."

For a moment Vader's jaw hangs open. He shakes his head. "That's not—"

"Search your feelings," Luke says, a harsh edge in his vice. _Face what you've done!_ "You know it's true."

"Bail Organa," Vader spits out. "That piece of—I'm going to—"

"To what? Frame him like you framed Han last summer for drugs and tried to frame Bail Organa two summers ago?"

"He took you and your sister away from me!"

"Because you were in jail! And it was Obi-Wan who made the decision, not him," Luke spits out. "And he never intended it to be permanent, until you turned into—into this!" He hates this, the rage that courses through him, the barely controllable urge to pummel Vader and scream _look, look at what you lost_.

"And your mother?" Vader asks.

His anger cracks. Luke shakes his head. "No one knows." Desperation claws at his throat. "Why? Why did you do it?"

"Because I loved you and your sister—"

"That's not love," Luke says, tongue thick in his mouth. _Almost there._ "Love doesn't hurt people for your own selfish gain. You know what I think of what you've done, what I thought of you—I ran from you last summer! Is that what you wanted?"

"I _wanted_ —"

"Well, I want you back!" Luke shouts. "I don't want you doing this! I can't be around you if you are, and you don't—you're a good person deep down, I believe it—" _I need you to be._ "I want to be around you! You're my Dad, _please_ —" A gasp breaks from his lips. "And Leia—how will she ever want to be around you unless you admit that you tried to frame her father? That you framed her boyfriend? She already knows! You wouldn't be saying anything she doesn't know—did Palpatine suggest it, or was it you?"

"Both of us," Vader says. "But Luke. You don't understand. There are other longstanding cultural factors at play—a few families rule this town, and it costs lives, Luke, lives I'm not willing to—"

The door swings open. Luke jumps.

"Ah, Vader," says Chief Palpatine. "I see you've met your son."

* * *

"If they don't come soon, I'll start throwing rocks," Chirrut says.

"You can't see," Leia points out.

"I can still throw rocks." He turns to his boyfriend.

When Leia needed people to help her—well, not break, but push—the law, she knew exactly who to call. _Jyn Erso._ And the girl hadn't let her down, rallying her old group of friends.

"When the cops come," Cassian says as he drapes his arm over his girlfriend's shoulder. "We'll run. In all directions. Try to confuse them."

Chewie nods. Leia grips Han's hand. So far, he hasn't even commented on her bikini. There's no way she's letting him get caught. If Luke doesn't succeed—a lump fills her throat.

"So, Luke," Han says as he and Leia drink what tastes like Sprite from a bottle. "He's a good kid."

Leia rolls her eyes. "Yeah. He is."

"You love him," Han states.

"Obviously, I do," Leia says, and then a flicker of pain crosses Han's face and she realizes what he meant. _Stupid! What did I say that for?_ "It's not like that!"

"It's okay; you don't have to explain," Han says quickly. "I was in jail. Luke is—I'll get out of the way, when this is over, I promise. I appreciate you doing this, though—"

_You are still a scruffy looking nerf-herder._

"Han," Leia says, gripping him by his shoulders. "Luke's my brother." And she brushes her lips against his.

Han's brow creases, and he gapes at her. "Brother?"

"Yeah," Leia says. "Twins. Separated at birth."

He must be realizing she's Vader's daughter, now. _Please don't think differently of me._

But this is Han. He's looked at her like a princess from Day One.

Sirens wail, and Han looks behind her. Leia grabs his hand. "Ready?"

"I love you," Han blurts out.

Leia smirks. "I know." And then she hurls her bottle in the cops' direction, careful not to actually hit them, and takes off down the beach, heading for the grove of trees surrounding the campfire area. Han runs alongside her.

"Get on your knees!" A cop jumps out behind a palm tree, an actual black, black gun pointed at them.

Fear, cold and brutal, clenches around Leia's neck. She turns to look at Han, both of them ashen as they get to their knees, hands above their heads.

 _Please, Luke,_ Leia begs. _I can't stand it if Han goes to jail._

* * *

"We've just arrested his friends," Palpatine muses, leaning on his elbow against the wooden panels. "I think we ought to search him for anything."

"Not without a warrant," Luke shoots back, leaping to his feet.

"Probable cause is enough, and given your friends and your demeanor, I think we have it." Palpatine takes a step forward, an evil smirk twisting his lips. His hands tremble with excitement.

Luke looks to his father, who's stone-faced.

"Empty them," Palpatine orders.

_It's over._

_It's really over. I failed._ Luke draws the tape recorder out, his stomach broiling itself.

"Interesting," Palpatine comments. "Not as if you would have been having an incriminating conversation, would you have, Vader?"

Luke's eyes dart desperately to his father, who stares aghast at the tape recorder.

"Funny," Palpatine says. "I don't think the tape recorder will go on record. The small bag of cocaine, on the other hand—"

"You don't get to frame me," Luke shouts. "My father won't let you."

"You just betrayed him."

"He's my father!" Luke whirls around as he hears Palpatine remove his handcuffs, the metal clicking. "Dad! Please—don't let him do this! Dad!" _If you ever loved me, help me!_

_Did you ever want me? Or just an image of me?_

_Do I want you, or just a child's drawing of you?_

_No. I want you. Please, want me too._

The gun's in Vader's hand before Luke even realizes what's happening. "Don't touch him."

Shock filters into Palpatine's features, as if he can't comprehend that his loyal deputy is actually aiming a weapon at him. Luke's heart leaps to his throat. What if his father actually pulls the trigger?

"Fine, Vader," Palpatine says in faux-confidence. "We destroy the tape—"

"No." The gun shakes in Dad's hands. "Luke, get the tape."

Luke can't move. _What's going on?_

"Luke."

It's a command, and Luke moves to obey. His hand closes around the black case.

"Get out of here," Dad orders.

"No," Luke says, legs trembling. "What're you going to—"

Dad laughs harshly. "You're getting what you want."

"I want you!" Luke screams, and for a moment he's a child again.

Dad looks at him, really looks at him, and he almost looks— _proud?_

"Trust me," he says. "Go."

* * *

As it turns out, Vader locked Palpatine in one of his own cells until the district attorney's deputies arrive to cart both of them off to prison.

Vader might be getting a plea bargain, which Luke says relieves him.

Leia doesn't know what she feels. On the one hand, the moment Luke came to free them from the cells was one of the best moments of her life. They all cheered, and yet—Leia's heart still felt chained, because on the other hand, she can't forget what Vader almost did to her father. Her sweet father, the one who embraced her, chastised her for being so reckless and yet told her how proud he was of her. The father who comforted her after nightmares and told her stories to revive her when she was distressed.

"I can't see him as my father," she says to Luke.

"I understand." Luke shrugs. "He'll be waiting to see you, whenever you're ready."

Leia can't fathom it—walking into a prison to see someone she still has nightmares about, nightmares of him taking her father away just like death took her mother. "I don't know when that will be. I can't promise anything, Luke."

"That's okay," he says again, because he's Luke and he's optimistic to a fault.

Leia is far more realistic.


	20. Chapter 20

He thought Rey was like him.

_You're a fool._

Ben tips the vodka back into his throat. It burns and stings as it writhes his way down his throat.

She's not like him, though she could be. She's smarter, and better. She still hopes in ways he doesn't—her hope gives her light, and his gnashes at him.

 _You're a melodramatic little bastard,_ he tells himself.

Ben envisions his mother at home alone—well, not alone. With her father, her adopted father, her not-real—no, her _real_ father. And maybe Uncle Luke. She probably misses him, but she doesn't know what she's missing.

Someone who doesn't exist. A monster, a cheap traitor, instead of her son.

Sand sticks to his hands, Ben grits his teeth. He hates it. _Let me go._

"I figured you'd be here," comes a dark voice.

Ben jumps, turning to see Rey. Her hair's down and she's wearing a gray sweater, a look of disgust on her face as she surveys the empty campfire site. "What are you doin' here?" he slurs.

"Everyone's looking for you, and I knew where you'd be." Rey marches over and grabs the vodka from his hand, her fingers scraping his. She pours it onto the sand.

Ben says nothing, Mortification spreads through the back of his neck around to his face.

"Your mother's now terrified she's going to lose her husband and her son," Rey informs him. "You need to get your shit together. Get back there, and be there for her. Shouldn't be hard for you, considering all the masks you've been wearing."

 _I'm tired of wearing them. I can't even see,_ he thinks. He takes a step and stumbles.

Rey curses. "Did you do this on purpose?"

"Huh?" He looks up at her, his stomach churning.

"Run away, get drunk, knowing that I'd look here, trying to get me to feel sorry for you again—" Rey stops herself, as if she knows how ridiculous it sounds.

It still hurts. Ben glares at her. "You really think I'd do that? That I'm that manip—mani—that kind of person?"

"I don't know what you're capable of," Rey tells him, voice wobbling.

 _I hurt you,_ Ben realizes as he watches her. _I hurt you when I hurt my father._ "I'm sorry," he croaks out.

Rey lifts her hands as if to say _so what?_ "What does it matter? You can't fix anything."

_I can't._

_I'm trapped._

"You need to go home," Rey says. "I'll drag you if I have to."

He snorts. The image of Rey, tall for a woman but tiny compared to him, attempting to drag him back to his mother, is absurd. But judging by the fire in her eyes, she'd actually do it.

"Okay," he chokes out.

"Great." Rey kicks at the sand as they walk. "Obi-Wan's gonna be pissed at me for leaving."

"Even if you found me?"

Rey tilts her head to look up at him, and Ben's stomach lurches. His gaze traces the curves of her lips, the determination in her jaw, the gleam in her eyes even though the sky stays dark. _She hates me. With good reason._

_I'm so sorry, Rey._

"I don't think that's going to matter to Obi-Wan," Rey says at last. "All that matters is I left."

* * *

"Oh, thank God," Finn gasps as he lies back on the bed in his small room at Maz Kanata's, phone to his ear. "Geez. I was really worried there."

"Me too." Poe sighs. "Maybe he does have a conscience after all."

"Maybe."

"Would it even be worth it?" Poe asks. "To tell anyone, or try to prove it?"

"I don't know," Finn says. "If he's feeling guilty, maybe he won't do anything else. And what else can he even do? The cat's out of the bag. He can't stuff it back in. Whatever happens to his mother after this is on him. He doesn't need to do anything else and he can't fix it."

"True." Poe groans. "I just wish we could do something."

Rain patters at the window. Finn pries himself off the bed, going to look outside. Thunder rumbles. "Me, too."

"I've never done very well with just sitting there and taking something that I know isn't fair, or isn't right."

"What is right?" Finn asks. "If Leia's going to lose her husband, she might as well keep her son, especially if he's sorry."

"I don't know how much I trust him to be sorry," Poe returns. "Did I ever tell you, Finn, that when I was eight my mom got cancer?"

Finn's heart pounds. "No."

"Well, that summer, when Mom was sick, my parents didn't want me around for much of the chemo and all. They thought I couldn't handle it, so they sent me to stay with Ms. Organa and Mr. Solo. They treated me like a son, almost. And Ben was there, kind of bratty but not that bad, except he was jealous, I could see. He thinks he's above everything and everyone else, and he treats his parents like they don't matter so long as they interfere in what he wants. I can't _stand_ that."

"Don't be like him," Finn blurts out.

"Huh?"

 _What did I just say?_ Finn gulps. "Don't—put your hatred of Ben before what Leia might be feeling, is all I mean."

"I don't hate him," Poe snaps. "I hate what he's done to his family who've done nothing but love him."

 _Does he know he's loved_? Finn wonders. Because there's a part of Finn wondering if Poe's going to dump him for saying that.

There's a knock on his door, and Finn calls out. "One minute!"

"Talk to you later," Poe says.

"Later," Finn echoes. He hopes Poe isn't mad at him.

"Just me," Maz says cheerfully as she steps into the tiny room, with its gold and blue coverlet over the bed and matching curtains. "I brought you hot chocolate."

"Oh." Finn blinks. "Thank you."

"Talking to your boyfriend?" Maz asks.

Finn flinches. "I—"

"Oh, for pity's sake, Finn, everyone knows. Relax." Maz shoves a mug at him.

"What are you doing here?" Finn croaks out. The cup is so warm it almost burns his hands.

"Making sure you're okay," Maz states. "Everyone's still in shock and I don't think you'd be any different."

Finn shrugs. "At least he's still hanging in." He takes a sip of the hot chocolate. It's overly sweet and rich. Not that Finn minds.

"You know you can take time off if you want to," Maz presses. "Not too much, granted, but if you needed a day I know Baze and Chirrut wouldn't begrudge you it. And neither would Jyn Erso."

"I don't need a day off," Finn says quickly as he takes a seat on the short chest of drawers next to the bed, behind the window. Rain continues to splatter against the glass. "I prefer to work."

"And distract yourself, so you don't have to think?" Maz asks.

Finn's jaw drops.

"I've seen a lot of kids like you, Finn."

"You don't know me at all." He hates how she looks at him, how it seems like she knows him, and he just wants to wriggle away, run and hide, cover himself up in work and school and goals for the future because he can't, can't, can't let anyone see him as he is right now.

"I know more than you think." Maz leans against the door and sighs.

"This is my one chance, all right?" Finn demands. "I need this." _Can't you understand?_ "I can do this. I—"

"You care far more about others than you do yourself, as long as you know them," Maz cuts in. "Let others care about you. Like Poe. Like Rey. And Finn, just so you know—" She opens the door. "I seem to remember someone—specifically, Jyn Erso—once saying that there are always, always more chances, as long as you're alive. It's never too late, and you've never blown everything."

 _I know,_ Finn wants to shout after her. _But you haven't lived my life_.

_You get one shot, and that's it._

_Isn't it?_

* * *

Obi-Wan says nothing until they get home. Anakin's out on the porch and gives her a nod. Luke's staying behind with Leia for the night, and both of them thanked her for returning Ben to them.

Rey glances at her grandfather, silent as ever. Irritation rises. "Are you going to scold me?" she finally blurts out.

Obi-Wan turns to her, eyes wide. "Why would I do that, Rey?"

"For leaving without permission." Her heart pounds in her chest as she heads to the kitchen for a glass of water.

"I did give you orders. You could have just told me where to find him."

Rey shrugs.

"I'm glad you found him, though," Obi-Wan allows, and hope rises in Rey.

She fills the glass from the tap and gulps.

"Shall I ask how you knew about that spot?"

The water turns to ice in Rey's mouth. She sets it down on the yellow-flecked counter; it splashes and she doesn't bother to wipe it up. "What does it matter? Aren't you already thinking it's our normal drinking spot or whatever?"

Obi-Wan's face drains. "Rey—"

"We drank there once," Rey tells him. "The time the Damerons caught us. Calm yourself."

"I don't like your tone, Rey."

She shrugs, bitterness, all the bitterness she pushed away when she squeezed her ragdoll back in Jakku but that still planted itself inside her blooming, exploding. "Do you like anything about me?"

Obi-Wan blinks.

"I heard you on the phone with Mace Whatever-his-face-is," Rey blurts out. "You don't know what to do with me. You don't know me. You don't want me, just like I assume my parents didn't, but who the hell knows, because you won't even tell me about them!"

"I don't know who your father is, Rey," Obi-Wan cuts in, his voice gravelly and older, so much older, than Rey's heard before. "I didn't know I had a daughter until—"

"Oh, so you abandoned her too. Great to know it's a family trait," Rey snaps.

He flinches. "Don't—"

"Don't what?" Rey shouts. "You look at me like I'm a car thief waiting to strike again, but you never bothered to ask me why I stole that car. I had a friend whose boyfriend beat her to within an inch of her life and I was trying to help her, and you know what happened when I got there? They both robbed me. It was all a lie, a set-up, and I got arrested for trying to help a liar, but at least I tried to help! And you just look at me through your high-and-mighty professor glasses and you don't even know me, and you judge me!" Her voice cracks, and tears burn in her eyes. "You won't even give me a chance."

"What do you think I'm giving you right now?" Obi-Wan cries out. "You—"

"The same kind of bullshit second-chance you gave Anakin Skywalker?" Rey retorts. "I knew before that article broke, you know. I'm sure you've wondered if I'm Kylo Ren. Well, maybe I am, how would you like that?" She's shaking all over, violently, the kind of trembles that can't be stopped.

He grips the wooden chair. "Stop it, Rey!"

"You never gave him a second chance, and he knew you wouldn't," Rey spits. "That's why he became Darth Vader, don't you think?"

"Don't you blame me for that! Anakin made his own choices, and I loved him like a brother!" His voice shatters now, and he covers his mouth.

"Maybe," Rey says, voice hard. "But maybe you're to blame for making him look for other options."

 _Maybe there is more to this story with Ben,_ she thinks, her stomach stinging and nausea bubbling. She heads for the door. Thunder rumbles.

"Where do you think you're going?" Obi-Wan bellows.

"Out," Rey says without looking over her shoulder, without facing him. "Again."

And then she is out in the rain, running through it. Behind her, Obi-Wan screams her name, but Rey doesn't turn around.

_I've ruined everything._

She's too numb to care.


	21. Chapter 21

 

"We'll move in on Erso first thing after the weekend," Draven promises.

Cassian halts in the hallway, his heart pounding. _What?_ It's got to be Galen, not Jyn. He somehow thinks it'd be better for Jyn if it were her Draven was discussing.

_She's going to kill him. And me._

"Cassian?" calls Draven. "You home?"

Cassian's hands fly to his lips, which are probably still swollen from his make-out session with Jyn. After work, they went to dinner and then to the beach, where Jyn told him more about her father, about Saw, and Cassian suggested they buy brownie mix and make it back at Mon Mothma's. A few overly chocolate brownies in and they were making out until Mon Mothma cleared her throat and Cassian pried himself away, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Jyn seemed hardly flustered, in contrast.

She really does like him. And Cassian now knows, in this very moment, for absolute certainty, that she shouldn't.

"Yeah," Cassian says, keeping his head low.

"Good day?"

He nods. "Was that about Galen Erso?"

Draven cocks his head, studying Cassian. "Yes. The bastard's about to get what he deserves."

"Are you sure?" Cassian asks. "I mean—Jyn said—" He blurts out what she said Saw told her, her father's letters. "So—"

"That's a crock of shit," Draven says, waving his hand. "Saw Gerrera just wanted to comfort that girl before his death, ease his own conscience. She's better off without Galen Erso, as she already seems to know."

 _I don't think she does know it._ But Cassian can only nod. "Good night."

"Good night."

As Cassian heads up the stairs, lightning flashes. He jumps, peering out the window. He pulls out his phone and texts the news to KAytoo.

 _I think the odds of Draven's assessment being correct are nearly 100%,_ Kaytoo texts back.

Cassian bites back a curse as he enters his room, cramped and with its low ceiling. _What do you think the odds are of Jyn killing me afterwards?_

_She won't kill you. She'll punch you, and she'll dump you. Bodhi, Chirrut, and Baze might too. I won't. What can you even do?_

_What_ can _I even do?_ Cassian wonders. _Draven's probably right. He usually is anyways. Jyn should see that._

She won't, and he knows it.

Because she loves her father, in spite of it all. She really loves him, and Cassian—he really loves her.

He remembers being a little boy, clutching rocks that his father encouraged him to throw. "We'll make it, Cass."

He did.

Dad didn't.

_What would Jyn do? If it were me?_

_What would you do, Dad?_

Cassian swears again, keeping his voice low so Draven won't hear. He texts Kaytoo, and then eases his window open. It's not a long drop to the sodden ground.

* * *

By the third ping, Jyn's certain someone's outside her window and tossing pebbles at it. Frowning, she pries it open, sticking her head out into the rain. Her teeth start to chatter as the water runs down her back, soaking her hair.

" _Cassian?"_ She thought it might be Chirrut and Baze, maybe. Bodhi would be more likely than Cassian.

He holds his finger to his lips and gestures for her to let him in. "I can't! Mon Mothma's—" Jyn cusses, and shoves her window open more.

Cassian shakes his head, but she ignores him. She lands on her knees and grunts.

"Are you okay?" Cassian rushes to her, grasping her shoulder.

"Fine," she wheezes. _Ow_. As she straightens, she kicks out her knee. _Dammit_. It's definitely bruised at best. "What's so important you couldn't text me?"

Cassian's eyes are wide. Rain soaks through his jacket, and his hair clings to his forehead. He shakes his head.

"What's wrong?" Fear grips Jyn. "Did something happen with Draven?"

Cassian shrugs. "Sort of."

"What's the matter?" Jyn demands. "Cassian, you look—" She doesn't like seeing Cassian look like this, as if he's dreading something. He's hope, to her. He's never not been hopeful. "Tell me."

"Draven's been investigating your father," Cassian blurts out. "He's going to arrest him at the beginning of the week."

The words sink into Jyn, cold like the rain. She shakes her head. "How do you know this?"

"I heard him. Talking." His eyes shift, and Jyn's heart lurches.

"How _long_ have you known this?"

"The investigation—" Cassian wets his lips. "Awhile."

Jyn feels as if he slapped her. "So was that why you tried to get close to me? Because you just wanted to—to use me for information, or—"

"No!" he bursts out. "I mean—Draven did suggest—but—"

"Did I say anything?" Jyn wracks her brain. _Papa_.

He'll go to jail.

And if Saw's telling the truth, he shouldn't even be there.

"No," Cassian insists. "I never—you didn't—it's your father, so—"

"I may be so angry sometimes I wish he was in jail," Jyn says. "But I don't want that. You—you are a _liar_ , you pretended to have the moral high ground and all the time you were trying to worm your way—"

"I was never going to date you! That was never part of the—"

"I don't care!" Jyn shouts. "You tried to—Draven told you to befriend me, didn't he?"

Cassian says nothing, just looks at her like a deer in the headlights. "Draven does good work, too—if your father's really working as an informant, then technically they're on the same side—"

"Deny it," Jyn says.

"So I'm sure he'll get off—"

"Deny it!" Jyn shouts, and Cassian says nothing, and she knows.

 _I kissed you,_ she thinks wildly. _You told me_ welcome home _—you made me feel as if I had something I hadn't had in years, maybe ever—you—_ "Why?"

"Because the world's been just as cruel to me as it has to you," Cassian tells her. "I just decided to give back a little, help make it a better place, instead of giving up."

His words cut her to her core. _So that's what you really think of me?_

They both glare at each other. Based on the information that he had beforehand, he doesn't think he was wrong, even if his conscience screams at him, Jyn realizes. "You make me sick."

Cassian doubles over as if she punched him. "At least I did something to try and—"

"Jyn!"

A car pulls up behind Cassian, and she spots Bodhi leaning out of the window _. Baze's car!_

Chirrut leaps out, and Jyn gapes at them. "What are you—"

"I called them," Kaytoo call from safely inside the vehicle. "I figured we might need to prevent a murder."

"Great to know you all think so well of me," Jyn says, her chest tight.

"That's not the case," Chirrut says. "Bodhi, Baze, and myself—we're less than pleased with this one." He points in Cassian's direction.

Cassian pales.

"We came to offer you a ride," Bodhi says, hair dripping around his face. "To see Galen and warn him, if you have to. Or to at least, you know, hash it out with him—I figure that it might be difficult to do if Draven is—"

_If I leave, Mon Mothma might think I've run away._

_And that's a violation of my plea deal._

_Screw it_. Jyn's hands shake as she runs for the car, leaping in the backseat. She reaches back to slam it as Cassian tries to get in. "What are you coming for?"

"If I'm with you," Cassian says. "I'll say it was my idea. They're less likely to think you ran."

"Great," moans Kaytoo. "I guess this means I don't get to go home and sleep."

"Feel free," Jyn snaps.

"He doesn't want to leave," Chirrut says as he slides in and Baze turns the keys in the ignition.

* * *

Rain pounds against the roof. Cassian's pulse pounds in his head. Jyn won't look at him, and he's angry with himself and he's angry with her. _Can't you put yourself in my shoes for one moment?_

But it wasn't right, and he knows it.

 _We can fix this._ He hopes so. He needs it to be so.

"Wait," Bodhi says. "You can't go this way—take the left up here; it's quicker—"

Lightning flashes, lighting up the sky around them, and then darkness takes over.

"Power's out," Kaytoo reports.

"You don't say," Cassian gripes.

Baze listens to Bodhi, turning the car. They're headed into a more wooded area. A branch strikes the truck, and Bodhi gasps.

"Don't do that again, or I'll make you walk," grunts Baze, proceeding at a very slow rate.

"I'm sorry," Bodhi says. "It's just—"

"Do you know what to say to him?" Chirrut asks. Bodhi goes silent. Cassian stiffens.

"No," Jyn admits.

"If you gave up on him," Kaytoo begins. "Then why are you so upset that—"

"Because he's my father!" Jyn shouts. "Because he said he loved me, and then was never around! Because he—if what Saw says is true—he really, maybe, actually does love me, and maybe he had a better reason than just not being able to stand the sight of me because I reminded him of Mom!"

No one speaks. Blood roars in Cassian's ears. _You just want him to love you._

_I hope he does. For your sake. Because I love you._

"I think he'll be happy to see you," Cassian croaks out. A hand reaches around from the front seat, squeezing his shoulder. _Chirrut_.

Jyn shakes her head. "Maybe."

"He will be," Bodhi says.

"That's great and all," Kaytoo says. "But it's so windy out that it'll be dangerous to—"

"Shut up, Kaytoo, your disastrous predictions are—" Jyn starts.

"Predictions? You just have to look outside the window!"

"I think you mean _listen_ , because unless you've got superb eyesight, none of us can see anything!"

"The car has headlights!"

"I have no eyesight," remarks Chirrut. Cassian's head aches as if his muscles are all coiling around his skull.

"Do you have to—" Bodhi begins, but he never gets another word out, because there's the sound of something groaning next to them, and then something flashes and it's falling towards the car, and Cassian lets out a shout, Jyn shrieks, Bodhi screams. Baze swerves sideways, and then the tree appears, slamming into the side. Glass showers all over Cassian. The car spins. He can't see—he can make out Jyn's voice, but he can't tell what she's saying— and the car halts. Cassian's head flies forward to smack into the seat in front of him.

"Shit," Bodhi breathes.

_I'm not dead._

Cassian leans back, his spine throbbing. A shard of glass sticks in his thumb and he pulls it out. Blood flows, warm. Rain splatters his neck.

"Everyone all right?" Baze grunts.

"A few minor lacerations," Kaytoo reports. "And possibly a broken nose for Bodhi."

Cassian cringes. Bodhi leans over, hands covering his face. Lightning flashes, and blood streams through his fingers.

"So, not all right," Jyn snaps, fumbling to yank off her jacket. She presses it against his nose.

"Well," Kaytoo begins, and Cassian's heart dives.

"Don't you dare," Jyn snaps. "Don't you dare say it."

"I," Kaytoo says with a dramatic sigh. "Told you so."

They decide to walk the rest of the way, because they need help. Cassian loops Bodhi's arm around his shoulders. Rain strikes them so hard it feels like hail, and as he walks, he can tell his thumb isn't the only place the glass got him. A gash mars Jyn's cheek. Baze walks behind Chirrut, clearly ready to intervene if Chirrut needs it.

"If any more trees fall," Kaytoo proclaims. "We're doomed."

"Please shut the hell up," Jyn begs. "Because if you don't, you're doomed anyways."

"You couldn't take me."

"Pretty sure she could," Cassian cuts in. Both Kaytoo and Jyn look at him, though he can't read their expressions. He swallows. The rain runs in rivulets down his back.

"How will we tell which house it is?" Kaytoo wonders as they stumble up the hill. Cassian's boots slip and he tumbles to the ground, his hands digging into the mud on the road. His palms sting.

"Sorry, Bodhi," he gasps.

"I'll get him," Kaytoo says quickly, shuffling over.

Cassian gets to his knees and looks up to see Jyn holding out her hand. "Need help?"

He nods, taking her hand. She pulls him to his feet, and they stagger up the hill together. They break out of the trees, reaching an open road, perfectly paved. Rain still tumbles from the sky. Cassian shivers.

"Which way?" Kaytoo asks. Bodhi leans over, blood still streaming through his fingers. Cassian hopes the rain's making it look as if there's more blood than there is.

"You're all getting a chance to experience life from my view, or lack thereof," Chirrut comments. "Might provide some good perspective."

"This way," Jyn says, jerking her head to the left. He meets her eyes, and her gaze is unyielding. She won't give him the acquittal he wants, and he knows, somehow, that he never expected her to. Because he won't give her the groveling she wants.

 _Can we move on from here?_ he wonders.

Her eyes flicker up the street, and Cassian knows she's thinking of her father. She's hoping, because Jyn needs hope like she needs water, and so does he.

Squinting, Cassian struggles to make out houses. But Jyn knows the way. Her footsteps falter.

"This one," Cassian says, turning to face it. Not that he can see much besides just a lump sitting there among sodden grass.

He hears Jyn swallow, and her hand flexes. Cassian wishes he could grab it, could reassure her. He doesn't know what to say. _Welcome home?_

Not again.

"He'll be happy to see you," is all Cassian can come up with.

Jyn stares at him, soaked tendrils of hair clinging to her face. Chirrut strides past them, heading for the house.

"There's a car," Kaytoo observes. "He's home."

"Chirrut, wait!" Baze curses and struggles after his boyfriend.

"Do you want to do this?" Cassian asks.

Jyn looks up at him, and she nods. He holds out his hand.

Her palm slips into his, and he hauls her towards the front door. Brick steps lead to it, an d they make it up them.

"Do doorbells work when the power's out?" Bodhi manages, his voice garbled.

"Oh for heaven's sake," complains Jyn, stepping away from Cassian and pounding on the door with her fist.

Nothing. Cassian grits his teeth.

"Stand back." Baze surges forward, kicking the door multiple times—not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to certainly wake up anybody inside.

A light gleams above them. Cassian whirls around to peer up at a window. A flashlight shines out.

"Papa?" Jyn calls.

The window slams shut. Cassian can hear footsteps pounding on the stairs, and then the door swings open.

"Hi," Jyn says. In the beam of light, her face is whiter than the moon. Cassian nods at her. "Can we—can my friends and I come in?"

Galen Erso nods, and then his eyes widen. "What happened?" he shouts, reaching for Bodhi.

"Car crash," Kaytoo remarks. "Quite terrible, really. A tree fell—"

"It's totaled," Baze confirms, wringing water out of his matted hair. Galen takes in Chirrut's unfocused gaze and swallows.

"Come in, all of you—Jyn, take them to the living room—I'll just get something to help Bodhi out." Galen takes Bodhi from Kaytoo and presses a small black flashlight into Jyn's hand.

She switches it on, leading them up the stairs and into a sitting room complete with leather couches and hardwood floors. "You can sit," she says.

"We'll ruin the furniture!" Kaytoo objects. "And the wooden floors." Rain drips off them all.

"He won't care. He'd rather—you sit," Jyn says, wringing her free hand.

"I've got blankets," Galen calls, appearing and tossing them to Jyn. "Get warm, all of you."

Cassian wraps himself up in a green fleece. Jyn huddles next to him, jaw working but no sound coming out.

Chirrut's hand clamps down on Cassian's shoulder, and he doesn't have to speak for Cassian to know his meaning: _I could comfort her, but you should._

"He loves you," Cassian whispers to her. "He seems like—like a kind man."

Jyn hands Kaytoo, sitting in the armchair across from the couch, the flashlight. She buries her face in her hands until floorboards creak again.

Bodhi drops onto the loveseat, the bleeding evidently stopping. Behind him, Galen shakes his head. "You all could have been killed."

"So you don't want to see me?" Jyn bursts out.

Galen's face crumples, and Cassian almost feels sorry for him. But there's such rawness in Jyn's voice— _you abandoned her, though you were there._ "Of course I want to see you, Stardust, I just—I don't want you to get hurt—I want—"

"You hurt me," Jyn says.

Galen steps back, and slides onto the loveseat. His shoulders droop.

"Saw's dead," she adds.

"I know."

"I know about what you've been doing," Jyn says as thunder groans outside. "Gathering information. Trying to protect whom you can. They're coming for you. Soon."

"They are," Cassian adds. "I live with Draven, and he's—"

"I know who he is," Galen cuts in. "Who are you? All of you?"

Cassian shifts.

"Chirrut Îmwe, Baze Malbus—friends of mine, in college," Jyn says, introducing them. "You know Bodhi; we're doing community service together. Kaytoo and Cassian Andor—they volunteer same as us, except out of the goodness of their hearts."

Cassian cringes as the bitter edge in Jyn's tone cuts him. His gaze darts to Galen, who's nodding as he studies each of them.

"They wanted to come with me," Jyn says roughly. "To warn you that they're going to arrest you. And I know what that's like, and juvenile lockup sucks, so I can't even imagine how awful adult prison is, Papa, and I don't want you to go!" Her voice breaks, and Cassian's heart twists in his chest.

"And you're an informant, kind of," Bodhi says, voice still slightly thick and distorted. He's going to have two nasty black eyes. "So if you just tell them—"

"If you go to them first," Cassian cuts in. "They'll have to listen."

Galen appears taken aback. "And what does it matter to you what I do?" he finally asks.

"It doesn't," Cassian blurts out. "But it matters to me how Jyn feels, and I know you've probably done some—not-so-legal things—in the name of keeping your cover, but you can probably also help do away with Krennic for good, and—"

"Of course I'll go," Galen says. "You kids—" He shakes his head, and his eyes linger on his daughter, agony etched into his face, a look Cassian's seen before—his own father's face, right before the police shot him.

_He was a criminal. He deserved it._

_He was my father._

_I still love him._

"I have documents stored at Krennic's," Galen says, stepping over to Jyn. He crouches in front of her. "Jyn—"

"She loves you and wants the best for you," Chirrut says. The implication slaps at Galen.

"I love you," Galen tells his daughter. She won't lift her fingers away from her face, so he presses his hands over hers. Cassian holds his breath.

And Jyn leans forwards, her arms wrapping around her father as she sobs.

"Stardust," Galen says, voice muffled against her shoulder. "You've never disappointed me. And I am so, so sorry— _you_ are my treasure, not my work, not—"

Kaytoo flinches. Cassian's chest feels as if it could burst. The words pouring from Galen's lips are words he's only dreamed of, words that—

Blue lights flash on the walls, with a splash of red.

Cassian knows those lights, because he remembers the blue being unable to disguise the red smeared around his father.

"Oh no," breathes Kaytoo.

Chirrut leaps to his feet, Baze's hand closing around his wrist.

The door cracks and crashes. " _Get on the ground!"_

Cassian's hands fly up, and he catches a glimpse of Draven's unflinching face before more screaming drowns out every sound, and he drops to the wood, his face smashed against a carpet. He peers out, watching as Jyn sees agents handcuff her father.

"No!" Jyn shouts, and Cassian's on his knees even before she is, grasping her shoulders, holding her back.

"Get on the ground, stay on—please Jyn—" he tries.

"Papa!" she screams.

Galen looks at Jyn, and there's something more in his face now, more pain, more hope, and it's unlike Cassian's seen before. His throat closes.

"Please," Jyn begs.

"I love you," Galen chokes out, and then they take him away.


	22. Chapter 22

"I don't think you're old enough to be here, kid," says a voice behind her.

"Where's here?" Rey mumbles, getting to her feet. The rain's slowed quite a bit, but her clothes are drenched and cling to her body. Her teeth chatter, and she can only replay her screaming, Obi-Wan protesting— _you don't care, you don't care, no one ever has._

But that's not true. Finn cares. Poe cares. Hell, Ben maybe cares.

Rey wipes at her eyes.

"Hey, you're Obi-Wan's kid," says the man, black and thin, with a mischievous smile.

"Does everyone know him?" Rey retorts.

"I'm Lando Calrissian. I own this bar that you're suspiciously hiding outside of." He sighs. "Look, kid, fake IDs were kind of my thing, but out of respect for your grandfather, if you've got one I'm gonna have to confiscate it."

"I'm not," Rey blurts out. "I mean—why do you have to assume things like that?"

Lando chuckles. "Okay, then."

"I had a fight with Obi-Wan," Rey says.

Lando winces and rubs his chin. "Rough timing."

"What do you mean?"

"With Han and all."

"Oh." Rey cringes. "How is he? Any change?"

Lando shakes his head, pressing his lips together as if he can't speak.

"I'm sorry," Rey chokes out. "He helped me earlier—he—" _He didn't look at me like I was a pest._

Lando nods. "He'll pull through," he says roughly. "He has to. He's not gonna leave Leia or that kid of his. He loves them both too much."

 _If only Ben could realize that_ , Rey thinks. _He doesn't deserve Han._

_Do any of us deserve love?_

_It doesn't matter,_ Rey knows. Love is a gift. One precious few people have given her, but one she's always held reserved for her parents. Except they never wanted it.

She remembers Ben's terrified face, the horror when he heard what happened to his father. He doesn't exactly seem proud of what he's done, but he still did it, still wrote that article knowing it would hurt, maybe even sharpening his words and phrases specifically so that they would pierce and wound his mother, his father, even if he never intended for a stranger's bullet to make the wounds physical.

Does he even want a second chance? Does he even want Han's love?

 _If he does,_ Rey decides. _I'll help him get right._ Because she still cares, because she wants to reassure herself that the parents she watched in TV shows, read about in books, are really out there, that there are heroes who keep loving their children no matter what, that the _monsters_ her parents were—her fists curl at the thought of them, for the first time bringing only pain and no hope—are not everyone's parents.

"Let me take you home," Lando presses.

She shakes her head. "No." _I don't even know where that would be._

" _Rey!"_

Both of them glance through the parking lot, where her devil climbs around cars, heading for her.

"What are you doing here?" Rey snaps.

Ben halts, his face gray in the streetlights. "Obi-Wan said you'd run off and Mom asked me to find you."

 _You came for me,_ Rey realizes.

"Poe and Finn are looking too," he adds.

A smile quirks one side of Lando's lips. "Will you let Ben take you home?"

Rey nods, although she doesn't intend to go back to Obi-Wan's, to face that man. Surely Ben will understand that.

Ben waves at Lando, and Rey hurries next to him. "I'm not going back."

Ben looks at her, but she ignores him. _Don't you dare question me._

He doesn't. "Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know." She lifts her shoulders and glares at him. They're walking through the main street now, Ben stepping in puddles like he doesn't even see them, or feel them.

He ducks his face.

"How could you?" she asks again, brokenly. "I'd give anything to have what you have."

Ben lets out a bark of a laugh. "What do I have?"

"Two parents who love you."

"Who make no time for me, and whose legacies make me a target for everyone at school."

"At least they notice you."

"Yeah, I'll remember that the next time the football team tries to punch me in the locker room."

Dismay wraps itself around her limbs. "You aren't still defending yourself."

"I don't know what to _do_ , Rey." He stops in the middle of the sidewalk, the smell of sweet rain and salty sea mixing. His chest heaves. "I don't know what to do," he repeats, and then he grips his skull as if he'd like to peel the skin back. "They'll hate me." His voice shatters, and Ben's legs tremble as if it's taking all of his strength to stand up on the street.

"You thought you were a big tough man who could fend for himself, and you're a terrified kid just like me," Rey says.

He looks at her in shock, breath rattling as it wheezes through his lips.

"You're afraid you'll never live up to all they think you should be," Rey continues. "And I'm afraid no one will ever have expectations of me at all."

"I do." It comes out harsh.

"Huh?" She blinks, her chest tight and palms throbbing.

"I have expectations," he says. "That you'll go far. That you'll—prove them all wrong, everyone who thought you were a nobody. Rey, everyone who knows you loves you, and I—I can't compete with that, I can't—"

"You're jealous of me?" It's offensive. Her jaw hangs open.

"No," he protests, dark hair falling thick over his eyes. "It's not a competition, I know, but—" His voice cracks. "You can be whoever you want to be. I know you can."

Rey's words stick in her throat.

"I ruined that for myself," Ben whispers, and then he turns his face away.

"No," Rey insists, snapping out of her own thoughts. She grabs his shoulder. "We can fix this."

_We._

_You don't have to do it alone._

His eyes widen. "How?" It's a plea.

"I don't know," Rey admits. "But we can—brainstorm. Think. You have to—"

"I can't come clean, and my father's—what's done is done, and I can't—"

"You _have_ to come clean."

He shakes his head. "But I don't even—"

"Talk to Snoke," Rey suggests. "Ask him if maybe—issuing a retraction—"

"Snoke would never publish a lie, Rey, and what he published is true—"

"All the implications in that article were true?" Rey demands. "Are you sure?"

Ben grits his teeth.

"You really think that your mother was aware, was in any way involved in any kinds of activities like Anakin was?"

He shakes his head, chin low.

"Then ask," Rey pleads. "You can at least ask—and then when you tell your parents—at least you'll have taken some steps towards—"

"Okay," he says, and his hand comes out to grip her wrist.

She blinks. A drunken laugh echoes behind them.

"Will you come with me?" he asks, fear grappling for his eyes.

Rey nods.

* * *

 _Where the hell are you, Rey_? Finn passes through the boardwalk, not that he really expects her to be here. The lights, the cheerful laughs—none of that really fits with her having just had a fight with Obi-Wan. He steps in a puddle and bites back a curse.

 _Oh, great_. Up ahead he spots the towering figure of Phasma, and Hux's arm wrapped around her. Finn lowers his head and yanks his hood up, hoping to avoid her.

"I have to get home soon," Hux says.

"That's pathetic," Phasma complains. "You're almost an adult, he shouldn't—"

"You should come tonight," Hux says. "After my dad passes out. We can work on that article."

Finn kneels on the damp ground, knee crushing into wet grit. He fumbles as he pretends to tie his shoe, heart pounding. _What am I doing?_

_This is stupid._

_I am stupid._

"You're the writer," Phasma says, sounding bored. Finn undoes the knot in his sneakers and tries again.

"But making the Organas lives miserable—think about it," Hux presses. "Snoke will publish it in a heartbeat. He doesn't care about Ben Solo and he never did. It'd be humiliating for that piece of shit and his stupid family if it got out what he did to his own parents. You know people still think they're better than us, just because they've been here longer?"

"I couldn't care less," Phasma says.

Reality hits Finn, cold and hard. His phone buzzes and he scrambles to his feet.

 _Found her._ From Poe.

_She's with Ben._

Finn scowls.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Finn looks up to see Phasma glaring at him. He swallows. "It's a crime to walk?"

She takes a step towards him. Hux's brow furrows.

"Have a great night," Finn blurts out, turning on his heel and resisting the urge to run. _Walk. Walk slow. No, walk normal. Not fast. One foot in front of the other._

As soon as he's sure he's out of sight, he breaks into a run. When he gets to the beach the sand slows him, grasping at his feet. Panic grasps at his windpipe. It's like running in a nightmare, chased by nothing, maybe something, chased by the fact that he need to talk to someone _now_ and he can't scream and he's going— _so—slow._

Finn slams his fist against the Damerons' door. _Calm down! Calm down._ He blows out his breath.

"Finn!" gasps Mrs. Dameron, the door swinging open. "Are you all right? They found Rey—"

"I heard," Finn says, nodding. _Calm down, you idiot_! "I was just—sorry—is Poe around?"

"He just got back."

"Could I talk to him for a minute?"

"Of course." Mrs. Dameron's jaw stays clenched as she lets him into the living room, as if she knows something's amiss. But then again, everything's amiss. Han. Ben. Rey. Now this.

"Hey!" Poe pounds down the stairs, his eyes widening as he wraps Finn in n embrace. "What happened?"

"Rey's okay?" Finn asks, hoping he can convey to Poe that they _cannot_ talk until his mother's out of the room. And here comes his father. _Him too_.

"Yeah," Poe breathes, dropping onto the couch. Finn copies him. "Ben called his mother and said they'd be home soon."

"Thank God," Finn says darkly.

"You really think she's okay?" Poe asks, leaning his chin on his fist.

"No," Finn says. "And you don't, either."

Poe shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. "I don't know what to do to help her. You're probably better suited for that."

"I'm not great at stuff like that," Finn says.

"Yeah, but I have it all, Finn." Poe blows out his breath. "And sometimes I feel bad, you know? Because she—what she's been through—and now with all this happening—it's just not fair. And what you've been through too—it's not fair."

 _It's not fair._ Poe finally voices the words Finn's been afraid to think his entire life, even though he knows—he's always known—that it's true.

_It's not fair, but it still is._

"Poe," Finn says, lowering his voice because the Damerons are still in the kitchen. "I overheard Hux talking with Phasma, when I went to the boardwalk."

"You went to the boardwalk?" Poe seems impressed.

"Yeah." Finn shrugs. "It was for Rey. And—" He details what he heard, what he thinks they're going to do.

" _Shit_ ," Poe moans. "I don't know if Leia can handle that, on top of all this." He tightens his fists. "I could punch Ben."

"I don't know if that'll help," Finn says. "Although he is a piece of shit." Hearing Hux's words from his own lips doesn't sit well with Finn. He shifts in his seat.

"What can we even do?" Poe asks. "Besides give her a warning?"

"I think we can warn Ben," Finn says. "Because it should come from him."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to take our advice. We're exactly the two shoulder angels he wants to listen to."

Finn snorts. "Rey might."

Poe shakes his head. "It won't work."

"But isn't it worth a shot?" Finn presses. "I'm doing it, Poe. I'm going to go to the Organas and I'm going to talk to Ben, right now—and maybe, probably, it'll go badly, but I'll feel I did the right thing, okay?"

Poe pales.

"Sorry," Finn says. "I didn't mean to make it sound like I—"

"You didn't," Poe interrupts. "I just—let's go. Text Rey."

"You want to come with me?" Hope surges.

"Of course I do," Poe says.

"Oh." Finn flexes his hands. "I'm not used to that."

Poe frowns. "To what?"

Finn titters nervously. "I guess I'm still afraid you'll, like, change your mind or something. That eventually I'll annoy or—"

"I don't care," Poe interrupts, grasping Finn by the back of the neck. "I really like you, Finn. We can argue and—it doesn't change that I want to be here for you, as much as you'll let me, and if you're scared I'll go I'll say I'm scared you won't let me."

"I find it hard to believe you can be afraid," Finn whispers, looking into Poe's eyes. _You really care._

_You're who I want to be like, and for whatever reason, you like me._

"Well," Poe says. "My dad always says you can't learn to be brave unless you're afraid first."

* * *

"Huh?" Rey asks.

"Finn and Poe are here to see you," Leia repeats. Obi-Wan's on his way, and while Rey is sure she'll be able to see Ben tomorrow when they'll go to Snoke's, she dreads leaving.

"Hey, Rey," Finn says as he, Poe, and a sleepy Beebee-Ate round the corner to the living room where she and Ben sit, trying to ignore the dark stares of Bail Organa and Threepio.

Rey opens her mouth, but Poe cuts her off by flashing the brightest of smiles. Too bright. "Remember how we texted about getting a late night sundae? From Lor San Tekka?"

Rey pulls out her phone. There are no new texts.

"I just—I know Obi-wan might want Rey home, but it'd be good for the four of us to go out and talk about things," Finn says. "I think it'll help. You know. Ben and Rey. Everyone."

"What is going on?" Ben hisses to Rey.

She lifts her shoulders. _I have no idea._

"I think it's a good idea," Bail says.

"Bail—" Leia begins. "After the day we've had—"

"Leia—"

"He's my _son!"_ Leia shouts. Ben stiffens.

Just once, Rey wishes someone would declare her to be _theirs_ , their daughter, their granddaughter, with that much vehemence.

"And I—"

"Please, Mom," Ben says, blinking back tears. "I promise I'll be back. I just—I need to talk to—them. My friends."

Finn and Poe exchange a look with raised eyebrows and pursed lips. Rey's heart softens.

"Fine," Leia says, voice wobbling. "But I swear to God, Ben, if you aren't back here within two hours, I will lock you in your room until you turn eighteen."

Ben hesitates, eyes bright. He takes a step forward, arms raising slightly as if he wants to hug his mother, but something holds him back.

Not something. Rey knows what it is. _Shame_.

Leia pushes Rey aside and embraces her son. Rey studies her scuffed converses. Tears sting her eyes.

" _Come back!"_

The cry scrapes at her lungs. Rey clutches her chest, struggling to breathe.

"Let's go," Poe says when Leia pulls away. Ben's eyes look impossibly dark against his white face, and he turns them to Rey, almost desperately.

She takes his hand and leads him out. "Okay, what is really going on?" she demands as soon as the door slams behind them.

"Shh!" hisses Finn.

"No, I want an explanation." They tromp past the sand dunes, Rey kicks the grains away as they reach the paved road.

"I overheard something, okay?" Finn snaps. He turns to Ben. "You better be planning to confess ASAP, because Hux is gonna out you if you don't."

"What?" Ben whispers, halting. Rey glances around. No cars.

Finn repeats his story. "I assume he's working with Snoke to publish it."

"Snoke wouldn't," Ben protests. "Why would be do that—if it weren't for my parents, I'd still be working there!"

"But you _aren't_ working there," Poe says, crossing his arms. Beebee-Ate whines and Rey crouches to scratch behind the dog's ears.

_This can't be happening._

"Shit!" Ben turns and kicks the guardrail, hands gripping his skull, tearing at his hair.

"You have to talk to him," Rey says, jumping to her feet. "To Snoke." She turns to Finn and Poe. "We were already planning on doing that. You have to tell him, Ben, convince him not to do it—you said you and he always got along—"

"If he's thinking of publishing this, I question whether or not you've ever really gotten long, or if it was all in your messed up mind," Finn comments.

"Finn!" Rey snaps.

"What?" He spreads his hands in innocence.

" _Try_ ," Rey grinds out, reaching out to grab Ben by his shoulders. "You have to try. For your mom." She swallows, hear heart pounding, her throat tight. "And then they're right, Ben. You do have to tell her. Them."

Ben shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "I—"

"You don't have a goddamned choice," Rey shouts.

"Yes," Finn says, watching Ben with a strange expression. "He does."

 _Whatever happens, you always have a choice_. "I said I'd help you," she tells Ben. "I meant it."

Ben looks as if he's struggling not to retch, but he straightens. "Let's go."

"Now?" squeaks Poe.

"To Snoke's place?" Finn demands.

"Yeah." Ben meets their gaze, and Finn looks to Rey.

She nods. _Let's go._


	23. Chapter 23

"You should probably wait out here," Ben says as they approach the sprawling mansion. It looks as if it was once a luxurious place to live, with large glass windows and an overview of a rocky cliff and the ocean, which Finn can hear roaring in the aftermath of the storm. But even in the dark, through the small lanterns lit up along the driveway, Finn can tell the paint's chipped and the windows are dingy, as if no one bothered to invest time and effort into keeping it beautiful.

"What, we're not good enough?" Poe asks sourly. Beebee-Ate whines, trying to lie down on the grass.

"No, it might make him feel as if it's an ambush or something." Ben stuffs his fists in his pockets.

"I'm coming," Rey declares.

Ben nods. "That's okay."

Finn shrugs. "We'll wait." _Because it's totes not sketchy to have two kids loitering outside a fancy house past ten at night._

Ben and Rey head to the front door, where Rey knocks.

"Is he even home?" Poe wonders.

"There's a light on," Finn points out, nodding to a window on the first floor.

"What if Ben gets away with it?" Poe asks. "What if that's all we're helping him do? Snoke says _fine, I won't publish this_ , Ben gets to never tell his parents, everything's peachy except we know and feel guilty?"

"I don't think that's going to be the case," Finn replies, watching as Ben knocks again. "If Hux knows, eventually it's going to get out. It's just a matter of time. If we can delay it until Han's better—"

 _"If_ he gets better," Poe mutters darkly.

"If," Finn amends. "It will help Leia."

Poe nods. "The last thing she needs is more public backlash right now."

Rey reaches out and opens the door. She and Ben slip in. Finn stands on his toes, tying to spot a glimpse of Snoke, but he gets nothing.

"Well," Poe says. "Time to wait."

Finn finds a small stick and throws it for Beebee-Ate. The dog looks at him in disgust, as if to say _you expect me to chase things when it's time for me to sleep?_

"Go on, Beebee-Ate," Poe encourages, and the dog gets to his feet, waddling off with his head and tail down. Finn snorts.

"Oh shit," Poe breathes.

Finn whirls around. He hears the car and backs up quickly, crouching down. He's not even sure why. His heart pounds.

"Dad, do we have to?" complains Hux's voice.

_Shit!_

Poe gapes. "This is not gonna end well."

Finn digs through his pockets, pulling out his phone and texting Rey. _Hux is here._ And then Finn stares at his phone, waiting in vain for a response as Hux and his father push open the same door Ben and Rey just went in.

_Dammit._

* * *

"Hello?" Rey calls. The floorboards creak under her converses. She glances at Ben. The door had been unlocked.

No answer.

Rey steps towards a doorway that appears to lead to the living room. A lamp gleams, golden and bright, but no one sits on the sprawl across the floor like goblins.

"Snoke?" Ben asks.

Nothing.

"We should leave," Rey says, defeated. Ben nods, fear pinching his features.

And then Hux's laugh booms out over the steps. "Door's unlocked, he said," a gruff older voice says.

Rey and Ben look at each other, desperate, and then the door's opening and Rey's shoving Ben behind the couch, against the wall.

 _What am I doing? If they find us now, we're ending up in jail!_ Rey can't imagine what Obi-Wan would think.

"Honestly, Armitage, you need to take this thing more seriously," snaps the man Rey assumes is his father, although she can't see him. Ben's knee digs into her stomach. His arm wraps over her shoulder. Their faces are pressed inches apart.

 _We are so screwed,_ Rey thinks, her heart thumping.

"I'll have the article written by morning, Dad, I promise," Hux says.

"You better," says the father. "Or else. You don't want to make me regret asking Snoke to hire you as a personal favor, do you? From what I understand that Ben Solo was a lot more talented than you. Too bad he comes with so much baggage."

Ben stiffens. Rey grips his arm. _Don't you dare move. Or I will end you._

"Well, he's gone," Hux says. "I'm the one who's here, writing—trying to distract—"

"Yes, yes, pat yourself on the back before you've even done it like the fool you are," Mr. Hux says. "You're just as assuming as your dumb mother."

Rey flinches. Ben inhales.

 _Poor Hux._ A father shouldn't talk to his son that way. Tears burn Rey's eyes. She could punch him, and if they were anywhere else she'd at least lambast him with her words. But as it is now, they can't get caught.

"You're late."

Snoke's voice.

Rey's phone buzzes. She slaps her hand over her pocket, Ben aghast.

There's a pause, and Rey feels as if she's going to vomit. But then Snoke continues as if he didn't hear anything. "I've spoken to him. He's assured me he won't miss again."

Rey checks the text. Finn. _Don't text! We're hiding_ , she responds. Ben shakes his head, clearly wishing she'd just ignore it. Rey pulls up her "notes" section and types: _but then they'll keep texting and we'll get caught!_ She shoves it at Ben to convey the message.

He shrugs.

"When, though?" Mr. Hux asks.

"Be patient, Brendol. I see impatience is a trait Armitage has gotten from you."

 _Touché_. Rey's right hip threatens to cramp. She winces, twitching in an attempt to keep it at bay. Ben looks as if he wants to strangle her.

"Well, it has to be soon. Her fool husband—"

Ben's eyes narrow.

"You don't think I know that, Brendol? Sheev was _my_ friend. A fool, but a friend. He has assured me he will not miss next time he fires on Leia Organa."

This time Ben starts, and Rey grabs him. _Don't you move, don't you even think about it!_ Her head swims. _Did I just hear that?_

_Snoke's behind the assassination attempt?_

Forget the newspaper article. There are far more important things at stake here. Like Leia's _life_.

"To the kitchen," Snoke says, and footsteps echo away. The room is, finally, empty save for Rey and Ben.

_And Armitage—he's involved in this, too? He's our age!_

"I am going," Ben hisses in her ear. "To that office. I'm getting—there must be—"

 _Are you stupid?_ Rey shakes her head frantically. _We need to get out!_

But Ben's already disentangling himself, creeping for the stairs. Rey hesitates for a moment before swearing to herself and darting after him. _Why oh why are these floors hardwood?_

 _Do you even know where this office is?_ Rey tugs at Ben's sleeve. He seems to know what she's asking and jabs his finger upstairs.

 _Murder. Those three are plotting Leia's murder in the kitchen over what, coffee and cookies like it's nothing_?

They make it up the stairs and Ben looks around the landing desperately. A small light glimmers under one door, and he pushes it open. "Search his desk," Ben orders.

"Yeah," Rey breathes. "Sure." She pulls out her phone and texts both Finn and Poe. _They're going to assassinate Leia. Snoke's behind it all._

 _WTF?_ Poe texts back. _Did you do crack?_

 _Are you okay?_ Finn wants to know. _Get the hell out of there!_

_We're searching his office._

_You are NOT detectives! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !_ Poe, evidently a fan of excessive punctuation, responds.

"Why are you texting?" Ben hisses.

"So we don't wind up on one of those cold case missing persons TV shows!" Rey snarls. She already feels like they're in a TV show. Or action movie. _This is insane!_

But she won't let this happen. She can't. Rey yanks open the drawers of the antique desk, handles brass and wood dark and polished. She combs through the files.

 _Nothing. Old news, bullshit news, nothing, nada, useless—_ that _face._

Rey yanks out a newspaper clipping, where the woman in the photograph, hailed for her nonprofit work, beams out at her. _Padmé Amidala_. Although the newspaper article identifies her as _Padmé Naberrie_.

_It's her._

All this time, she's been in Snoke's office.

The article's only from four years ago.

Footsteps creak on the stairs. She looks to Ben in a panic. He freezes.

Rey slams the drawer shut as she scampers across the room, grabbing him and ducking behind one of the velvet curtains.

"Must've left the light on," Snoke muses, switching it off.

And then comes a sound that sends fear stabbing at Rey: a key turning in the lock.

* * *

"You have got to be kidding me," Finn gasps as he studies his phone.

"What?" Poe peers over his shoulder. Beebee-Ate whimpers. "Shh, Beebee."

"They're locked in," Finn says aloud. "The office."

"We should call someone," Poe says.

"Then they'll go to jail for breaking and entering."

Poe curses. "But they'll be _alive_."

Finn texts Rey. _What do you want us to do?_

 _The window to the office looks out at the woods, not the ocean,_ she replies. _Second floor. Come find us._

_And then do what? It's not like we have stilts, Rey!  
_

_We're going to drop out!_

"I have a bad feeling about this," Poe moans. An owl hoots.

"You and me both," Finn grumbles. "What—"

Beebee-Ate nudges his nose into Finn's calf. He scratches the dog's ears.

"I have an idea," Poe says, a gleam entering his eyes. "I'm going to create a distraction. The moment Rey and Ben get out of that window, they run. You _all_ run, got it?"

"And leave you to what, risk getting murdered? What the hell are you going to do anyways?"

"Nah, Beebee's not gonna let that happen." Poe winks and tugs at the leash. "Trust me, Finn. Get to the edge of the road and wait for me by the stop sign, okay?"

"No," Finn says, fear gnawing on his fingertips, snapping every vertebrae as it runs down his spine. "No, it's not okay. I don't—"

Poe grabs his neck and kisses him. Finn shoves him away. "That's not going to work, Poe!"

Poe cringes and studies the grass. "I didn't—"

"I don't want you to risk yourself like that," Finn says.

"I'm doing it for Rey," Poe says. "Maybe Ben. Not really. More like Leia. But we have to do _something_ , Finn."

_I'm so scared._

_That's okay._

He hears Bodhi's voice, hears the word _brave_ , and looks in Poe's eyes. "Let's do this, then."

Finn texts Rey to let her know the plan.

 _Uh what exactly does Poe have planned?_ Rey responds.

 _No idea. Just go with it._ Finn jogs, searching desperately. There are like seven windows that could be the office window. Make that eight, counting the one that looks like it faces both the ocean and the woods. Finn can't tell what the angles from inside will be like.

 _I see you_ , Rey texts.

_Well, open your window already!_

"Sounds great," Finn hears, and he skids to a stop. Another window's cracked open, and he can hear what's definitely Snoke's voice. Finn slows down.

 _Dammit, Rey, you guys are practically right above them!_ he texts.

_Poe, we need you._

"I'll meet the two of you on your yacht tomorrow night," says Hux's dad. "And we'll exchange payment then."

"Indeed." _Snoke_.

The sound of crashing glass echos from the other side of the house. Finn flattens himself against the side of the house. _Really, Poe? This is your great distraction_? If they find any of them, they'll be arrested.

"The hell was that?" shouts Hux.

His father mumbles something about finding out. Above him, Finn sees Rey's legs emerge from the window.

Finn holds up his hand to tell them to stop. He waits until he's certain all of them have left the room they were in, and then he jerks his hands. _Now!_

Rey drops, and Finn rushes over. "I'm fine," she ekes out.

" _He's getting away!"_ Hux again. From the front. Finn hauls Rey out of the way so Ben can drop down.

"Let's go!" Finn grasps Rey's wrist, dragging her along as the three of them charge into the woods. "Poe said—stop sign—"

"He did it," Ben chokes out when they reach the stop sign, though Finn stays hidden behind a large oak tree. The bark scrapes his jacket. "He hurt my mom—he tricked me—God, I'm such a fool, I'm such a fool, I'm such an _idiot_ —"

"Yeah, I don't know what you want me to say, man," Finn snaps. _Poe, where are you?_

"You can make it right," Rey says.

"How? Rey, I'm already late getting back—my mom's going to—"

"We'll talk," she says. "You're not alone."

Finn blows out his breath. "You're not alone," he agrees.

A twig snaps. Finn's heart palpitates.

Beebee-Ate shoots through the brush and lands on Rey, woofing. Poe throws his arms around Finn.

 _You're okay,_ Finn thinks, his chest tight. _You're okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! Hope you enjoyed The Last Jedi's trailer!


	24. Chapter 24

"You're late," Obi-Wan says as she enters the door. The air smells sweet.

"I'm sorry," Rey says, but the words scrape her throat. She doesn't know if she really is. Her head spins. _We just uncovered a massive conspiracy._

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" Obi-Wan asks, his gaze pensive. "I made some."

Rey frowns. That must be the smell. "Okay."

Obi-Wan beckons for her to come into the kitchen, where Rey's eyes immediately flit to the picture of a beaming Obi-Wan, young and handsome, with Anakin and Padmé. The newspaper article's pressed in her back pocket.

It's what she's always wanted: an adult who _actually_ , really, truly gives a shit about her pressing something warm to drink in her hand. But it might be too late. Rey doesn't know what to say.

At least he hasn't kicked her out.

"I, uh—" Obi-wan clears his throat. "I've been thinking about what you said."

Rey's eyes focus on Anakin's young, smiling face, so different from his scarred one now. His head was full of hair then. The hot chocolate's not bad. A tad bitter.

"You're right. I don't know entirely what to do with a teenager," Obi-wan says bluntly.

The chocolate turns to ash on Rey's tongue. She coughs.

"It's been a long time since I worked with young people, and then it was only as a teacher," Obi-Wan says. "Professor. But that doesn't mean I don't want you, Rey. It's that—I'm—" He collapses into one of the simple wooden chairs. "I'm a little afraid, Rey, because I don't want to mess this up. You're too important."

 _You already know_ , Rey realizes. _What I said to you—about Anakin—about your blame—you already know._

_You live with it each and every day. You wake up to it. It lives next door._

"Your mother—" Obi-Wan covers his face. "I never knew she existed, not until years later, and when I contacted her she wanted nothing to do with me." He looks up at Rey, as if expecting her judgment for that. "If I had known, I would have married her mother—I would have raised her—she didn't tell me she had a daughter."

Hot tears bubble up in Rey's eyes. She sets the chocolate on the counter, trying to squeeze them away, but they won't go, they won't go. She tries to suck in her breath; her breath rips. "She forgot me."

Obi-wan doesn't deny it. "She was an addict, Rey. She and—I tried to get her help—"

"What happened?" Rey chokes out. _Tell me, dammit,_ please!

"She died of an overdose about a year ago. I only knew her for six years. That's when I moved back here, to be closer to Luke and Leia, and Han—and Anakin, though I'm too—I'm too—" His fist tightens. "I can't quite figure out how to restart with him." He lifts his eyes to meet hers, and they're wet. "Rey, when they told me you existed, it was one of the happiest days of my life."

_I'm another chance._

"I haven't been a parent," Obi-Wan ekes out, his hand covering his mouth. His breath comes in tight gasps. "Or a grandparent, but Rey, I _want_ you. I want to help you. I just—I'm not going to be able to do it perfectly." He says it like those words kill him.

"I never wanted perfect," Rey manages. "Just— _someone_."

Obi-Wan gets to his feet, and the next thing Rey knows, he's hugging her, and she cries into his shoulder.

_You love me. You do._

_Grandpa._

* * *

His door flies open at four in the morning, and nausea surges through Ben, who has only just managed to drift off to sleep. He expects Snoke and sees his mother.

"The hospital called," Mom says, and then she claps a hand over her face and can't continue. Ben wishes it was Snoke, wishes—

"He's awake," Threepio chimes in from behind her. Grandfather-not—no, _Grandfather_ breaks into a grin as he appears in Ben's room.

Ben taps off a text to Rey, asking her to contact Finn and Poe. Snoke's words creep through his mind, but he pushes them back.

 _I'm not a murderer,_ Ben thinks as he looks in the bathroom mirror, lights bright and blinding after the darkness in his room.

_Not yet._

Grandfather drives them to the hospital, Ben's heart pounding the entire time.

_Will he know? When he sees me, will he know?_

He doubts it, although it would be a relief. It might kill him, but it would still mean the end of this crushing pressure, of the voices he hears accusing him of being weak, pathetic, a monster.

He remembers Snoke and Brendol Hux. I _can't die._

_I have to stop this. Make it right._

The elevator drags, and Ben stares at the green tiles to avoid seeing his reflection all around him. When it finally dings and they get off in ICU, Ben can only remember running away the last time he was here. Snoke's voice echoes again.

_I won't run away from this._

"Two at a time," Cheiwe says gruffly, appearing. Mom wraps her arms around him. He claps Ben on the shoulder. "You two should go."

 _I don't deserve to be his son_. But Ben nods and trudges after his mother, all the way to the small room with _Solo_ written on the board next to the door.

His father looks thin and pale, withered, wrapped in tubes and with a ventilator he keeps trying to yank out.

"Don't you dare!" Mom barks. "Chewie said they're going to extubate you later today— _if_ you leave it in. Or I swear to God I will ask for restraints myself."

Dad rolls his eyes, and it's the best gesture Ben could have imagined. Still, he hangs back. Dad's gaze latches onto him, and he beckons for Ben to step closer.

"Dad," he says, and his throat breaks down. "I'm so—you're—you're okay."

Dad squeezes his hand as if to reassure him, and the way he looks at Ben— _has he always looked at me like that?_

_Like he loves me?_

"It's going to be okay," Ben vows. "I promise."

* * *

"I'm so glad," Rey breathes as the four of them sit together for brunch at Bodhi's restaurant.

"I'm glad to hear about you and Obi-Wan," Ben says as he takes a bite of his spinach and goat cheese omelet. Rey eats more of her pancakes, which she's slathered in butter and syrup.

"So," Poe says. "What are we going to do? Go to the cops? Or—"

"They're meeting someone tonight," Finn says. "On Snoke's yacht. We could tell the police."

"And say we were sneaking around and Poe broke a window and Rey and I actually broke in?" Ben asks. "No thank you."

"I'm on probation," Rey admits hating that she has to admit that. And yet none of them look shocked, or disgusted. "My record will be expunged if I stay out of trouble for a year. This would ruin everything." Obi-Wan would still want her, though, and that knowledge is a balm that soothes her heart.

"So then what?" asks Finn, chugging orange juice.

"I thought you wanted to make things right," Poe says, angrily biting into his breakfast pizza. "This is your _family_ , Ben—we can't do nothing! Especially if what we overheard is true."

"I'm scared, okay?" Ben snaps. His face reddens.

"Well shit, dude," Finn says as he takes a bite of his strawberry waffle. "We all are."

Rey's eyes flicker to Poe. He nods, staring at a fallen piece of sausage. "But we have to do something anyways. I can't stand back. That's not how my parents raised me."

"We can," Rey says. "I'm been thinking. I have an idea."

* * *

"Rey," Ben says as they leave the diner. "Are you going back home now?"

She nods, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Are you going back to the hospital?"

Ben shakes his head. "Mom says he's sleeping." He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I want to see my—other—grandfather. Anakin Skywalker."

Rey blinks. "Um. Okay."

They don't talk much on their walk. She knows they're both mulling over their plan. Cicadas chirp and gnats flit through the air. Rey swats at them. Loose strands of hair stick to her face.

"Thanks," Ben says at last.

"For what?"

"Your help." He blows out his breath and shakes his head. "Not many people have really—"

"I find that hard to believe," Rey says. "I think people have always been there. You just wouldn't let them help, or you thought accepting help made you weak and you were scared of that."

Ben blinks.

Rey's tough façade dissolves into a wry smile. "I'm talking about me, too."

"No," Ben says. "You're right. I had more—than you ever did."

 _Maybe_. Rey shrugs. "But that comes with its own problems."

"It made me feel lonely," Ben confesses. "Like I should have everything figured out."

 _We're both so lonely._ She looks up at him, craning her neck to see his face. A dragonfly buzzes between them, and Rey smiles.

The houses come into view, side by side. Ben hesitates.

"Text me when you're done," Rey says. "Or just come over." This, she knows, Ben ought to do himself.

Besides, she has a phone call to make. It didn't take long to track down Padmé Naberrie's contact information this morning at the library.

* * *

Ben sucks in his breath, and then knocks. Uncle Luke's at the hospital, because Mom doesn't want to leave Dad for even a moment. Not that he blames her.

He hears a click. The lock. And then the door opens, and Ben's staring at a man his mother hates, but Uncle Luke clearly loves. A man who tried to destroy Grandfather's life, and Mom's, in his own ignorance.

 _But you were manipulated too, weren't you?_ And yet—the choices must have been his.

_We have a lot in common._

"Um—" he stammers. "Anakin—Skywalker? I'm—"

"I know who you are," his grandfather answers, voice rumbling. "Does your mother know you're here?"

Ben shakes his head. "My father woke up. She's at the hospital." _Please don't shut the door on me, please don't—_

Anakin hesitates.

"I just want to talk," Ben whispers.

Anakin's eyes soften, and he steps back to allow Ben in. All these years, and he's never been to his uncle's house. The carpet's worn and blue. Artoo snoozes in a corner. A plaid couch sits against the wall, under a window where several plants grow.

As he passes, Ben notice his grandfather's lips trembling.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he blurts out. It's the first thing he thinks of. And it's probably not fair. _Dammit!_ He wants the answer anyways.

Anakin shuffles towards the kitchen. "I'll make tea." Artoo opens one eye and closes it again.

Ben waits. Anakin sighs as he puts a kettle on and then heads back, sitting in the overstuffed armchair. "Your mother didn't want me to. And I felt it should be her choice."

"Not mine?"

"Not when you're too young to make them." Anakin's lips, horribly scarred, curve into a smile. "And trust me, Ben, I know that when you're young you think you're entitled to every piece of knowledge, but the truth is, some protection measures aren't bad. I learned that the hard way."

 _He said my name._ "Lying?"

"No," Anakin says. "Lying is always going to backfire." The teakettle whistles, and Anakin winces as he gets to his feet. He returns with mint tea. Ben declines sugar.

"You and Uncle Luke are close."

Anakin sighs. "He chose to forgive me. Your mother didn't. I wish she would, but I can't fault her. I don't know what I'd do if I were in her shoes; and Luke was raised differently anyways."

Ben sips the tea. "But you love her."

"More than anything," Anakin whispers. "And I'm proud of her, too. She's doing her part to stop people like me—the Darth Vader part of me."

 _And the Kylo Ren part of me_. Ben grips his knee. "Why did you change?"

"Because I didn't want to hurt the people I loved. It's that simple." Anakin cocks his head, studying him. "I heard you were interning for the _First Order_ earlier this summer."

Ben squirms. "Well, that's over now."

"but you want to be a journalist?"

He nods.

"I'd love to read your writing. If it's okay with your mother."

Ben's heart lifts. "I'd—that'd be great."

Anakin smiles. "You should ask your uncle for advice. He's better than Snoke ever was."

 _Snoke_. Ben frowns. "Did you know him?"

Anakin's expression darkens. "I've lived in this town since I was a child. I know him." His words are clipped.

 _Should I tell?_ Ben wonders. But he can't risk it. "He's—not exactly a kind soul. He's manipulative."

"He learned from the best," Anakin says. "He was good friends with Palpatine."

 _Oh_.

"But that's a subject for another time," Anakin says, and Ben suspects he's worried Mom won't like it. Ben gulps more tea to block a sigh as Anakin asks him about school, about his friends, about Rey. And Ben forgot how it felt, to have someone want to know him.

"It's getting late," Anakin says an hour later. "You should go." It's not a request.

Ben nods, getting to his feet. "Do you mind if I ask one more question?"

Anakin waves his arm. "Shoot."

"What happened to your face?"

Anakin laughs. "Prison accident. The first time, the stint in juvie, really."

 _Huh._ Ben nods as he heads for the door, jogging over to the Kenobis' house. His step feels lighter. Rey sits on the stoop, a phone pressed to her ear. "Rey?"

"Okay, bye," Rey blurts out into the phone. Ben frowns. She holds it up. "I was just leaving a voicemail message."

* * *

Poe drums his fingers against the arm of the chair he rests in as he waits for Finn to finish his shift at the bookstore.

"Hey, Poe," says Cassian as he pushes the door open, Jyn and Kaytoo behind him. "How's it going?"

Poe lifts his shoulders. "Glad Han's awake."

"Aren't we all," Cassian comments. Chirrut waves in his direction.

"You don't seem very glad to me," Kaytoo comments. "Chirrut, you're usually able to tell. Doesn't he seem worried to you?"

Finn glances at Poe over the register. Poe cringes.

"He does," Chirrut says. "But he doesn't want to talk to me. Neither does this one." He jerks his thumb in Finn's direction.

Baze appears from the backroom, wiping his brow. "Good to see y'all."

"We're getting dinner tonight," Cassian offers. "When Bodhi gets off shift."

"At his restaurant?" Poe wonders.

"No." Jyn laughs. "I think he's a little sick of that place."

"He'd probably rather talk to you, Cassian," Chirrut says. "Despite his efforts to change the subject."

 _Dammit!_ Poe forgot about how Chirrut does that sometimes. It's like he can see your soul, and Poe doesn't like this exposed feeling.

Finn's eyes widen. Poe gives him a reassuring nod.

Cassian watches him. "You have something you want to talk about?"

"Not really," Poe says vaguely.

"That is a lie," comments Kaytoo.

 _I will rub you in raw meat and sic Beebee-Ate onto you_. "It's just—a friend of mine—of ours—" Poe says, meeting Finn's gaze. "Is considering doing something at—his job—" Now they won't think it's Ben. "That's not illegal or anything, but is technically against the rules. Is it ever okay to break rules, even if it's for a good cause?" _Is it okay to sneak onto a ship with the hopes of getting a recording or some paperwork when there are far simpler solutions that Ben just won't consider because of his blasted pride?_

"It's _always_ okay to break the rules," Jyn comments as she grasps the ladder.

Baze laughs. Cassian smacks her shoulder. "Hey!"

She smirks. Kaytoo shakes his head.

"I would say so," Cassian says. "I think you already know so. But breaking rules doesn't make you brave or right, and there's always the possibility that you're wrong. Everyone thinks they're doing the right thing, most of the time."

 _We're not wrong in this case._ But Poe nods. "Thanks."

"You can go, Finn" Baze says.

"Thanks." He gets to his feet and looks to Poe.

 _Here we go. Hopefully not to our deaths_. Poe rises.

"We're gonna be okay," Finn assures him as they leave the bookshop.

"Hope so," Poe mutters darkly. A shoulder collides with his and he opens his mouth to apologize.

 _Never mind._ Phasma sneers at them, her hand clutching Hux's. "Watch where you're going."

"Cut it out," Poe snaps. "And leave Finn alone."

'It doesn't matter," Finn says.

"Like hell it doesn't." Poe clenches his fists.

"No," Finn says. "It doesn't. Not to me. They don't matter. I worked for Phasma for what, one week? They're irrelevant. Because I don't want them to be relevant." He steps closer, his hand taking Poe's jaw. He kisses him.

"Excuse me?" Phasma snaps.

Finn takes Poe's hand, and they turn away. Poe suddenly feels small next to Finn.

"Well done," comments Chirrut's voice from the doorway. "Turning the other cheek. I'm proud of you, Finn."

"Um—"

"Of course I can easily call both of your parents," Baze says, appearing behind his husband. "And detail the harassment. Phasma, your mother won't be thrilled."

 _Oh shit!_ Poe claps his hand over his mouth, trying not to laugh.

It's a small thing, but it gives him hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! The next chapter is the last flashback.


	25. Chapter 25

_**Twenty-five years ago** _

"Seriously, Cassian?" demands Draven as he storms into the police station. The blank brown walls close in around them, shades drawn over a storming night. Thunder snarls. "I thought—"

Cassian clamps his mouth shut, studying his shoes as Draven lays into him. The police took Bodhi to the hospital and the rest of them to the station, although fortunately they're not charging any of them. Baze and Chirrut were allowed to leave because they're adults. Baze hesitated, clearly feeling guilty, until Kaytoo ordered them to _just go_.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Draven finally asks. Mon Mothma appears in the doorway, and Jyn shrinks in her chair.

Cassian peers up at his foster father, the lights blinding and the smell of coffee turning his stomach. _I'm sorry?_

But he's not.

He shrugs, and Draven lets out a sigh of disgust. "Get up, Cassian."

"My father's been working against them," Jyn blurts out.

Cassian freezes. Kaytoo winces.

"Excuse me?"

"You're a cop, right?" Jyn asks, looking up at Draven with her eyes wide. "So you can help."

Cassian's stomach flip-flops. _That's not how it works_.

"And you know this how?" Draven asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Cassian's pulse hammers in his throat. _Be careful, Jyn._

"Saw Gerrera told me," Jyn says. "When he was dying—and he confirmed it. My dad. They all heard it."

"That is true," Kaytoo affirms, and Jyn shoots him a grateful look.

Draven looks to Cassian, and he nods. "It's true. We heard it."

"You can ask Bodhi Rook, and Chirrut and Baze too," Jyn adds, fervor in her voice. "He said there are documents that can take down Krennic—in his place. Krennic's house."

"Between us, I have no doubt Krennic has incriminating documents at his place," Draven says. "But no, I don't think your word will be enough to get a search warrant. You're a criminal. So is Rook. And Cassian's got his own record, too. And as for Îmwe and Malbus, they're no better."

" _I'm_ none of those things," Kaytoo says.

"Big whoop-dee-doo," Draven shoots back.

"What does that mean?" Kaytoo asks, brow furrowed. Cassian glares at him. _Shut it._

"One voice is not enough," Draven says. "Your father's word is hardly reliable anyways, Jyn."

She flinches, and Cassian can practically see the rage steaming off her. "But," she says, voice clipped. "Saw Gerrera's—"

"Unless the dead can talk, Jyn, his word is useless too, because it's coming from yours. And a brief glance at your record of lying, stealing, aggravated assault, and more tells the court all they need to know about the reliability of your word."

"Hey!" Cassian shouts. Everyone turns to look at him, Jyn with her eyes flashing, Kaytoo with horror lacing his face, Mon Motha curious and Draven irate, his eyes bulging. "I was there. She's telling the truth." _You trust me, don't you?_

 _No,_ Cassian knows even before Draven rolls his eyes. _You don't._

"It's not enough," Draven says.

"I'm sorry, Jyn," Mon Mothma whispers. Draven's hand lands on Cassian's shoulder, pushing him out.

And he's that little boy again, watching his father fall.

 _No_.

_There has to be a way. There has to._

Or Cassian won't be able to face himself in the mirror.

* * *

Jyn wakes to the sound of pebbles against her window. She blinks. The sunlight drifts in from her windows, soft and gentle. Mon told her she wasn't going to volunteer the next morning, assuring her it would be all right, assuring her she really, truly was _sorry_.

Jyn still punched her pillow and cried until sleep took her.

Hobbling out of bed and tripping over a bra, Jyn makes her way to the window. She pries it open, warm morning air caressing her face. A pebble narrowly misses her cheek. Jyn shrieks.

"Sorry! No one answered the door!" Cassian calls up to her.

She pulls her head back in to glance at the clock. 9:08. "What do you want?"

"Can you let me in?"

 _Do I want to_?

She remembers him standing up for her, against Draven of all people, and darts away from her window, pounding down the hardwood stairs to fling the door open.

"Hey," Cassian says, shoving his hands in his pockets. Jyn shuts the door behind him. Mon must be at work. "How are you doing?"

Jyn's throat tightens. Her fists curl. "I'm pissed," she ekes out, glaring at the ceiling as if it can offer her answers.

"I know."

She looks at him, and he's gulping. "I also know you're telling the truth."

Jyn throws her hands in the air as she heads back towards the living room, Cassian following. "Does no good if they don't believe me."

"You don't want to give up."

Jyn squeezes her eyes shut. _I love you, Stardust._ Her father's voice. It rakes at her, leaving her bleeding and cold. "I don't know what else to do."

"I have an idea," Cassian says. "Krennic's place overlooks that private beach. Scarif."

"So?" Jyn asks as she plops onto the floral couch. Cassian sits next to her, his knee brushing hers.

"So, all we need to do is throw a party on his beach at night. He'll try to ignore it at first because he won't want to cause trouble, but after awhile he'll have no option but to call the police, and before that, you and me and Kaytoo will sneak in and steal the files."

"So be thieves," Jyn says. Cicadas whir outside. It's supposed to be the warmest day of the year so far.

He blinks.

"You'd really do that? You'd ruin everything, you know. For yourself."

"Bodhi, Chirrut, and Baze are already on board. I've got friends, too. They've said they'll help."

Her head spins. "Why?"

"I can't face myself if I don't." His dark eyes meet hers. "Jyn—I lost my father when I was eleven. He was a—very messed up guy, but he loved me, and I can't—I need you to—"

He doesn't need to say anything more. She knows. He knows. "Thank you," Jyn manages.

He nods. "Tonight at seven."

"Tonight," Jyn echoes. _You're actually helping me. Via breaking the law_. She shakes her head.

"What?"

"I'm not used to people sticking around when things go wrong."

Cassian smirks. "Welcome home."

There. That sentence. Again.

Jyn leans forward, and his lips meet hers. Cassian's mouth opens, one hand digging through her loose hair, one wrapped around the side of her jaw.

He pulls back, panting. "You don't hate me."

Jyn shakes her head, his breath warm on her cheek. She can't speak. He tilts her face up, sinking down to meet her. His arms press her against his chest, and Jyn feels safe.

"Even if this works," she gasps, breaking because she needs to warn him, needs to make sure he understands. "We might go to jail."

His eyes are sober, but accepting. "I know."

 _I'm worth it to you_. Jyn could cry, but that might also be a waste of this moment they have, right now, this morning when no one's home and he's looking at her like she's the north star, and he's the one offering her something she doesn't fully understand— _home_ —but knows she craves.

Jyn's not sure how long they kiss for, but eventually his hand slides under her shift, and she tugs his jacket off. "Okay?" he asks her.

"Yeah," she breathes, leaning back until he's on top of her and the couch is soft beneath her. She fumbles to undo the button on her jeans, heart pounding, but not because she's afraid.

* * *

When they meet up with everyone near Scarif Beach, Baze notices Jyn and Cassian's entwined hands and smiles, whispering something to Chirrut. Jyn rolls her eyes, but Chirrut gives a thumbs-up in her direction.

"How's your nose, Bodhi?" Jyn asks. She does not want Kaytoo finding out that she and Cassian slept together. Although it's probably only a matter of time.

He shrugs. "It's clearly looked and felt better, but it's worth it."

"You're all sure about this?" Jyn blurts out, the sun, hotter than it's been so far this year, beating down on her. She adjusts her shorts. "That you want to do this? It's your lives, you know."

"And you're our friend," Baze states simply.

"We want to help," Bodhi interjects. "We want to help _you_ , and Galen."

Cassian smirks at her. Kaytoo sighs. "Cassian said I had to help."

"Well, that's very sweet of you," Jyn replies. Chirrut snorts.

"The three of us—Kaytoo, Jyn, and me—will break into the house," Cassian says. "We'll search his study—we'll see what we can find."

"Be quick about it," Bodhi warns.

"Will do."

The wait for seven pm is agonizing. Jyn can barely eat the burger and fries she orders from one of the town diners.

"You're not missing out," Bodhi assures her. "They're not very good. You'd think that, given the popularity of this place, they'd serve better food."

Baze snorts. Cassian offers Jyn a weak smile.

"Maybe, in the future, you should make that food yourself," Chirrut opines.

Around seven, they sneak past the sand dunes and the rocky cove towards the beach.

"Took you long enough," comments a girl with her hair in two buns.

"Leia!" Cassian grins at her. "This is Leia Organa. She's—she knows what's going on."

Baze and Bodhi arrange the speakers. Chirrut stares out towards the sea, waves rolling in, rolling out, the sun melting and leaving an orange film on top. A ridge lined with stone steps leads up to a mansion overlooking the beach. _Krennic's._

"You don't have to do this, you know," Jyn says as she sidles up to him.

He smiles in her direction. "Jyn, it's my honor to help you."

She throws her arms around him. "Thank you."

The basses start, and more and more people filter in. "We told them to invite everyone they could," Baze says in satisfaction.

Jyn nods. Cassian takes her hand. "It's time."

They scramble halfway up the steps, opting to dive into the brush for the last half. Jyn skins her knee on one of the rocks and shakes her head. _Keep going._

Krennic's car sits in the pristine driveway. Jyn hates him right now, in this moment. _He sits like a king while my father rots._

"I'm you best distraction," Kaytoo says, holding out a screwdriver. "Go around back."

Jyn takes it and nods. "Thank you."

"Welcome." He turns away, and she and Cassian jog towards the lawn.

A security alarm wails. "Shit!"

"Kaytoo will take care of it!" Cassian hisses, grabbing her and ducking against the house. Jyn spots a window and races over. He chases her.

"Come on, come on," Jyn mutters as she wiggles the screwdriver.

"Let me," Cassian says.

"You can't do it any better!" She drops the screwdriver. Cassian grabs it.

"You're right," he says after a minute. "Another—"

Krennic's voice rings from the front, enraged. "We don't have time!" Jyn grabs a small rock from the garden.

"What are you—"

She smashes it through the window. Cassian pales. Jyn bats the rest of the glass away, slipping through. Her sandals crunch the glass, and she turns around to pull Cassian through. They're in some sort of entertainment room, complete with a TV and speakers of Krennic's own. Jyn doubts he uses it much. Photos of Krennic with famous sports stars he's evidently met line the walls.

"Upstairs," Cassian urges, and she nods, following him. He freezes behind a closet door.

" _Get that beach under control!"_ she hears Krennic snarl. Footsteps echo in front of them.

"Kaytoo," Cassian whispers. She shakes her head and spots the staircase to the second floor. She sprints, Cassian on her heels.

"Here's his study," Cassian pants. "I'll take that—you take his bedroom?"

"You think there's a chance of that?"

"It can't hurt!"

She nods and sprints off. _Please be okay, Cassian._ She reaches the bedroom and turns the knob, entering the surprisingly bare space. No curtains hang on the window, only blinds. The bedspread is bland and beige, and on it there are papers. She charges forward.

 _No good._ Jyn's chest throbs.

"Well, well," says a voice behind her. "What have we here?"

* * *

Cassian rifles through Krennic's desk drawers, dumping piles of paper onto the floor. He doesn't care. Let him make a mess.

 _Here_ —these look suspicious. Letters to Chief Palpatine, and to Darth Vader. Cassian stuffs them in his pockets. And this one—Bail Organa?

 _Leia's father?_ Cassian glances towards the darkened window.

 _No_. He knows it can't be right. _It's got to be a set up_. Leia needs to see this, ASAP. Cassian wishes they made phones you could carry with you, so he could call her right now.

Krennic's voice. Cassian freezes. And Jyn's—talking back to him.

Cassian grabs as many papers as possible, hoping against hope that one of them's useful at the very least. And he breaks out of the study, charging for the bedroom. _Which door is it?_ That one!

Jyn stands at the foot of the bed, papers clutched in her hand and a murderous look on her face. Cassian's heart leaps.

"I'm Galen's daughter. And Lyra's. And you've lost. You're not going to get away with this."

"I'm not going to let you leave my property," Krennic says. "So how exactly have I lost?"

Jyn hesitates, and then charges for the door. Krennic spins, lunges—and Cassian kicks him, his trainers colliding with Krennic's face. Blood spews from his nose.

_Shit._

"Let's go!" Jyn grabs his hand, and they surge down the steps. "Did you—"

"Some things," he pants.

"You're a disappointment to your father!" Krennic's garbled voice echoes down the stairs.

"He was working against you the entire time!" Jyn hollers. Cassian tugs at her, trying to wrestle her out the door. _Oh yeah. We should go._

They sprint down the perfectly paved driveway, rushing into the brush. Thorns tear at Jyn's legs. Shouts echo from down on the beach.

"Oh shit," Jyn gasps, skidding to a stop on the slope and windmilling her arms.

"Cassian!"

He whirls around to see Leia panting as she climbs up the ridge. "The cops are here."

Jyn yanks the papers out of her pockets, shoving them at her. Cassian copies, adding: "You might want to take a look at some of those."

A scowl crosses Leia's face. "I plan to look at all of them."

"We need to split up," Cassian says. "Or else—"

"Got it." Leia waves and scatters to the right, heading back up and deeper into the forest. Cassian pulls Jyn towards the road.

A car cuts them off, tires squealing.

"These are the ones!" cries Krennic. "They broke into my house—they stole—"

 _If you're that angry_ , Jyn thinks as a cop shoves her to her knees and another one pats Cassian down more heavily than needed. _That means we got what we needed._

"Nothing, sir," reports the cop.

"Search her!"

Jyn's yanked to her feet, arms twisted in cuffs. They shove their hands in her pockets, around her legs and torso. They dig through Cassian's jacket, his pants. "Nothing."

"That's not possible!" splutters Krennic.

Jyn can't keep herself from grinning. _You lost_.

* * *

"You're not looking at very much time," Mon Mothma tells her. "A month or two at most, if that. And your father will go free."

That's all Jyn wanted to know. She nods.

The days in lockup are lonelier for her than, she imagines, for Cassian. He doesn't have the record she does and the only reason he's apparently still in juvie is because Chief Palpatine is making it so. Same for Bodhi. At least they're together. And from what Jyn understands, Baze and Chirrut were released.

It's one week until her father comes, and when he does, he wraps his arms around her, face worn, and says the one sentence she's always craved: " _I'm proud of you, Stardust."_


	26. Chapter 26

"There it is," Rey breathes. Finn looks across the docks with all these ships, shiny and white and painted with pretentious names, bobbing on the waves, straining against their ropes. Snoke's is the largest one, a fiberglass luxury yacht with its own dock.

"Funny," Poe comments. "Never pictured him the sailing type. Although his face does look as if he's spent about a thousand years in the sun and wind as part of a noble pursuit to imitate a raisin."

Rey smirks. Finn's mouth puckers. He feels as if he's swallowed a gallon of the salt water and it's still undulating in his stomach.

"We have to get on that thing," Ben declares, wind whipping his hair around his face. "We have to search it."

"We know," Finn says dryly, tugging on his jacket.

"Then let's not wait," Rey says, springing forward. "The sooner we get this over with, the better." She pulls out her cell phone, checking it again. Finn wonders whom she's waiting for a message from.

Ben nods. But no one budges.

"Then let's move," Finn says, taking the first step. Poe, Rey, and Ben fall into line behind him.

"Wait, wait, wait," Poe interjects, clutching his skull. "Wouldn't it make sense for at least one of us to stay on the dock as a lookout?"

"Oh, shit," Rey breathes. "Yeah. I didn't think of that." Finn notices that her hands are shaking. Judging from Ben's frown, he's noticed as well.

"Ben can't do it," Poe says. "He knows Snoke best, and—"

"If he's going on board, so am I," Rey interrupts.

"Fine," Poe says. "I'll guard."

"Are you sure?" Finn questions. _Will he be safer? Or more in danger?_

Poe nods, setting his jaw. The stars blink above them.

 _It's your choice._ Finn hauls in his breath.

"Okay," Rey says when they reach the ship. "We'll have to jump."

Poe cringes as Rey backs up.

"Let me go first," Ben says. "My legs are longer. I can pull you over, if you miss."

"Good idea," Finn interjects.

Ben backs up and takes a flying leap at the yacht, landing with a thunk. Finn's mouth goes dry. _We're really doing this. Right now. This is happening._

Rey leaps, and sure enough, she slams against the rail, Ben grasps her arms, hauling her over.

"Is she okay?" Finn hollers. Rey's hand rises above, bearing a thumbs-up. "'Kay," Finn says, wiping his palms against his jeans. Poe's jacket wraps snugly around him. "Ready?"

"We'll help," Ben calls.

Finn backs up, unable to look at Poe and see the fear he knows riddles his boyfriend's face.

A light cuts through the side of his vision. Voices murmur between the sound of the lapping waves.

"Shit!" Poe gasps.

"Hide!" hisses Ben, and Finn and Poe look at each other and see no place besides the yacht, but—

"Dammit!" Poe grabs Finn and leaps into the bay. Salt water surges up Finn's nostrils, stringing, scratching at his eyes. He struggles to free himself from Poe's grip as they surface. Finn gulps in air.

"Did you hear a splash?"

Brendol Hux's voice. Finn swims closer to the pier, lowering himself so that his head's hidden under the overhang of the wooden boards. Poe glances at him, eyes wide.

"No," purrs Snoke.

_Goddammit!_

_He better not be—he can't be—_

Footsteps creak above them. Finn sucks in his stomach, though there's no point. Poe grabs his hand under the water, and Finn looks at him and knows that they have to duck under.

He can't hear, underwater. It's a tranquil illusion. When they surface, though, the voices sound farther away.

Someone says something in another language. "Great," Snoke says in response, and then Finn can't believe what he's hearing.

Something cranks. Almost like a walkway.

 _No_.

"What do we do?" he mouths at Poe, who shakes his head, droplets flying from his hair.

There's nothing they can do. _Get off, figure out a way to get off, you idiots_! Finn thinks, wishing ESP were a real thing. _C'mon, God, make it a thing just this once!_

He's not sure how long they tread water for—his teeth are chattering and more voices, a new voice, one Finn's never heard before—echo. Engines rumble, and by the time Finn and Poe drag themselves, spluttering, onto the dock, the yacht's steaming ahead.

"Rey?" Finn calls weakly, already knowing he won't get an answer.

"What are we gonna do?" Poe whispers. "They might get—"

"Proof, or they might get killed!" Finn snaps. He yanks out his phone. " _Dam_ mit!" _Can't anything go right?_ The water's ruined it. By the time they get to Poe's home—

"Jyn and Cassian live near the marina," Poe pants.

Finn scrambles to his feet. _They'll have a phone. They'll know what to do._

* * *

"I hate this," complains Han, voice hoarse. "Just sitting in bed, doing nothing."

"If you even think of getting out of this bed before Dr. Kalonia gives the okay, I'll murder you myself," Leia tells him. Chewie rises, putting his enormous hand on Leia's shoulder.

"Oh, for real Chewie?" Han complains. "You're siding with her?"

"Why not?" Luke says with a snort.

"I'll call Ben again," Threepio says. "I'm sure he's on his way."

"Nah, don't, he's having fun with friends," Han says, a bit glum.

"Han," Leia says. "He's been extremely distressed over you."

Han's eyes brighten. "Poor kid." He blows out his breath. "And I know you're all keeping something from me about him, and I _don't_ —"

"He kind of had a breakdown," Chewie mumbles.

"What?" Han's eyes widen. "Leia!"

"I think we need to force him into counseling, Han," Leia says, her fingers rubbing the back of her husband's hand. "He needs—"

Threepio screams, a shrill cry that sends Leia leaping up, expecting to see another assassin. Gorge rises. "Three—"

"Are you all right?" asks a small woman who appears in the doorway, beautiful even in her older age. White curls are pinned atop her head, and she wears a pantsuit Leia has to admit she envies.

"You!" Threepio gasps. "You can't—be—how—"

"Who are you?" Leia demands. Luke stands behind her, his expression just as baffled.

"I got a phone call asking me to come to Yavin," answers the woman, her eyes wide in fear. "I—"

"I can't believe you just showed up like this! You've never been one for propriety!" scolds Threepio.

"Excuse me?" the woman sputters. "I was told to—"

Threepio sighs. "And I am _so glad_ to see you."

The woman's eyes water, and she wraps an arm around Threepio.

"Um," Leia says. "Who are you?"

"My name is Padmé Naberrie," says the woman, clutching her velvet handbag. "I'm sorry—I came to a Ms. Organa's house and a Mr. Dameron told me to come here—"

"Kes told a _stranger_ to come here?" Leia demands. None of this makes any sense. Especially given all that's happened!

"But I thought you were the one who called," says Padmé. She rubs her eyes. "It was woman, at least." Her face reddens, as if she's realizing her mistake. "I'm so—and when you're going through all this—"

"Leia," croaks out Luke.

"What?" Leia snaps. She's not mad at the woman, but whoever's trying to do this— _is it connected to the assassination?_ Her heart races. _But this woman hardly looks dangerous—how could she be tied up in anything like that?_

Luke staggers to his feet, running his hand over his unkempt beard. "I know who you are," he tells the woman. "You used to be Padmé Amidala."

The woman's brown eyes—brown, like Leia's own—fill with tears.

"My—father's mentioned you," Luke adds. "Only briefly, but—"

Leia's knees give out. She falls onto Han's legs. He grunts. "What?"

"You're my birth mother," Leia whispers.

The woman pales as if she might faint. Threepio grabs her shoulder. "That can't be true."

"You had twins, didn't you?" Luke manages. "Anakin Skywalker is our father."

 _Darth Vader._ Leia's hands tighten into fists.

"You're Ani's kids? But I thought—I was told—you were given to someone in Europe. Both of you—"

"I was raised by Beru and Owen," Luke says. "She was adopted by Bail Organa."

Padmé's eyes flash. Her mouth opens, but she can't speak. A tear steaks down her cheek.

Luke rushes over and throws his arms around her. She gasps.

Han gapes at Leia. "Your _mother?"_

"Birth mother," Leia insists, voice shaking.

Padmé's sobbing now. "I never knew—I never knew—"

Unlike Anakin, Leia can tell these aren't crocodile tears. She cries the same way Leia does—with small gasps, a snort every now and then. Padmé pulls back and looks at Luke.

"I'm a reporter," he blurts out like a schoolboy. "Or I was. I won some prizes. Now I take care of—Anakin. She's a senator."

"I know who she is," Padmé cuts in. "I've heard the name—I've been praying since I heard about the assassination attempt."

 _You've heard of me?_ Leia's breath feels bottled up inside her windpipe, straining to get out, pressing against her throat. _You don't even know about Ben—did Dad lie to me? Or were you both lied to?_

 _He couldn't have._ Leia knows her father better than that. He didn't lie.

_Padmé's parents lied to her. And to my father._

They would have thought they were doing the right thing—young girl pregnant, her unsuitable boyfriend in jail—and their idiocy has caused so, so much—

But she's here right now, and Leia can't hate the woman. _What do I do?_ She glances at Han, who still looks dumbfounded.

Leia holds her hand out, and Padmé shakes it. "I—used to want to be a senator, too."

Leia's eyes fill with tears.

The curtain flings back again, and Leia turns to see Dad there, face white. His jaw goes slack.

"Bail," Padmé says. "You raised my daughter."

Leia stiffens. _Don't you—_

"Thank you," Padmé says, her tears still falling. "You raised her well."

Bail doubles over.

"Dad!" Leia shouts.

"How?" he ekes out. "How are you—you signed away your—"

"I never did, because I never had a chance to even hold them," Padmé blurts out. "Just to—name. I thought you and Breha liked the name, and used it—"

Bail shakes his head. "This has to wait."

"I'd say we've waited long enough," Luke interrupts.

"Shut up, Luke! I—we—we have a problem. Leia. Han. It's—"

"Ben," both of them say immediately. Leia's stomach grows cold.

Padmé's brow knots as Bail gasps. "I got a phone call from Cassian Andor on my way here. Apparently Poe and Finn showed up begging for help, saying something about—knowing who shot Han—and Snoke—and that Ben and Rey were trapped on a boat with him."

"What?" Leia doesn't follow.

"Come again?" Han demands, pushing himself up. " _What's_ happened to my son?"

Bail sucks in his breath and explains again. Snoke, the attempt to get a recording, the yacht disappearing, and by the time he's done Leia's head is in her hands, and she feels as if each of her ribs are dissolving, crumbling. _Ben_.

"I'm going," Han vows, trying to rip the IV out of his arm.

"Hell no!" Chewie barks, yanking Han's arm down. "You will die and that won't help anyone!"

"He's my son!" Han bellows, his face gray.

"Han," Leia says, rising and gripping his shoulders. "I'm going. Luke's going. We're all going, except Chewie, because he's going to need to stay and make sure no one tries to harm you."

"Oh, for—"

"I'm going," Bail adds. "That's my grandson."

Padmé's eyes flash. "I know Snoke."

"You do?" Leia turns to her.

She nods. "He's an old friend of Palpatine's—kept it under wraps, for fear it'd ruin his career—I cut off communication after that whole scandal—"

"Do you know where he'd be going?" Luke blurts out.

Padmé shakes her head. "I might be able to find out, though."

"Great. You're coming too." Leia's hands shake. Fear builds inside of her, fear unfamiliar, clawing and writhing. _My_ son.

_Please._

"Leia—" Han struggles.

"Don't you trust me?" Leia barks.

Han freezes. He grits his teeth. "Go save our son."

* * *

Artoo barks.

Anakin shuffles through the quiet house. "What's wrong, boy?"

The dog whimpers, and then there's a knock at the door. Anakin straightens, his heart thumping like it hasn't in years, like it hasn't since he was released from prison and saw his son waiting for him and knew he didn't deserve it, but _deserve_ isn't even a part of the equation when it comes to love.

"Anakin?" calls a gruff voice.

 _Obi-Wan._ Anakin yanks the door open. _Why are you here?_ As amicable as their relationship is now, Anakin can't escape the condemnation he sees in Obi-Wan's eyes, the self-blame, the shame.

But tonight, there's only terror in Obi-Wan's eyes.

"Rey's gone," Obi-Wan blabbers.

"Again?" _Foolish girl_.

"So is Ben."

 _Together?_ Anakin's mind swims with his and Padmé's dreams, the ones they talked about lying around on Padmé's silk sheets, the ones where they ran away and—

"They went to stop Snoke. Apparently he's behind the assassination attempt on Han—or at least, that's what Poe Dameron and Finn are saying." Obi-Wan relays the story of sneaking onto the yacht.

"No!" Anakin shouts, curling his fist. "They didn't."

"They did." Obi-Wan's voice catches. "I can't leave her there, Anakin; I've got to try—Cassian contacted Lando and he's lending a speed boat—I'm not waiting around. I'm going. Now. With them." He hesitates. "Leia says a source claims Snoke knew Palpatine."

 _Not my grandson_. Seeing him earlier that day—he was so beautiful. He looked like Leia, who—looks like a more whole him, with some Padmé thrown in. His voice was sensitive, and he was _smart_. He's perfect.

"I don't know," Anakin admits, miserable as he hangs his head. "Palpatine never mentioned him." It's pathetic how much Palpatine kept from him. _I was his dog._

_He went after my grandson._

_Like Palpatine went after me._

Obi-Wan groans. "Well, we'll search that bay—see if—"

Palpatine had a boat, too. Anakin remembers the few times he was invited to join the chief of police, how the parties got out of control—how he exchanged money—

"I know where they are," Anakin breathes. "Or where they might be." He bites his lip. "I could be wrong, but Palpatine used to travel to a certain coordinate to pay off—"

"It's a better lead than anything we've got," Obi-Wan bursts out, grasping Anakin's shoulder. " _Thank_ you."

_He's desperate._

He can't let another person he loves— _people_ he loves more than life itself, even if they never love him—down. _Not matter what it costs._

* * *

The spray from the sea hits Rey in the face. She shivers, more from fear than cold. Ben's arm wraps around her as they huddle behind life preservers.

"What do we do?" she whispers. They had some chances to get off this yacht—they were too afraid. _We thought—we thought—we're trapped!_

Ben shakes his head. The ship rocks back and forth. Rey's stomach churns.

"We have to get it," she says.

"Huh?"

"We can either stay here," Rey says, teeth chattering from terror. "And hide until we get caught or go back to shore, wh-whenever that will be. Or we can try to get the recording, and—"

"We have to do it," Ben agrees, the wind whipping his hair against his face.

"And if we get caught—"

"We're not getting caught," Ben interrupts, gripping her wrists. "We can do this."

His face is inches from hers. Rey worries her lips, taking in the shine of his eyes, the moles that weave through his complexion. "I'm afraid."

"Me too."

They stay there, kneeling and clutching each other, until at last Rey draws in a shuddering breath. "Let's go?"

"Let's go," he confirms, pulling her up.

They creep towards the entryway, pressing themselves against the wall. Rey ducks down the stairs— _are they even called stairs on a ship?_ Everything's quiet. Rey pauses to slip off her shoes, Ben following suit. They stow them behind the stairs, under a pile of rope. _What are shoes to their lives?_

Her feet pad against the plush carpet. White leather furniture sprawls out, with red satin throw pillows. What look like decorations of African and South American design hang from the walls, along with a diamond shaped mirror that glints malevolently. The smell of cigar smoke taunts Rey as it tickles her throat. _Don't cough._

The ship creaks as they sail over a wave, and Rey covers her mouth to keep from crying out.

Below, she hears a laugh. Although it has to be unrelated, she almost feels as if she's being mocked.

"We have to get close," Ben murmurs, pulling his phone out. "In order to—"

"To what?" asks the voice of Brendol Hux. The lights flick on, and Rey sees that he's been sitting there the entire time, on a nailed-down armchair, smoking the cigar he now crushes in a ceramic ashtray.

_Oh my God._

_Help._

Ben shoves Rey behind him, but it's no use.

" _Snoke!"_ bellows the man, his face burning red.

_No!_

Brendol lunges for them. Ben throws Rey out of the way and kicks him in the gut. Brendol's too quick.

"Stop!" Rey scrambles to grab one of the art pieces, a long staff with feathers on the end. She swings it. Brendol ducks.

He pins Ben down behind the white couch, next to the stairs. His elbow jabs against Ben's throat. Brendol's hand dives as Ben thrashes and then he pulls out a pocketknife, holding it to Ben's jugular vein. It glints.

"Let him go!" Rey raises the staff again. Her skin pulls. She'll have blisters tomorrow.

"Stop and think," comes the voice she's been dreading. Snoke, who looks at his former intern and Rey with annoyance. "Do you really want to do that?"

Ben's face is turning purple. The knife pricks his skin, and a drop of blood dribbles out.

For the first time in her life, Rey surrenders in a fight. She drops the staff.


	27. Chapter 27

Ben's knees jab into Rey's thighs. The closet they've been shoved into is tiny, barely large enough for once person, and it smells like fish. Rey coughs.

"Say one word and I'll hear you!" bellows Brendol Hux, and Rey hears the lock turning.

It's pitch-black. She struggles to breathe. _We're trapped._

_We're not getting out of this one._

Ben's hand grabs her shaking one, squeezing it. She shifts, trying to give them both more space, but there's no use.

"How much do they know?" demands Brendol.

"How can they even know?" asks a third voice.

"The break-in at my house," Snoke snarls.

Ben inhales sharply. Rey feels him fumbling through the dark. "What are you—" she hisses.

His phone flashes, and now his fingers shake as he punches in his code and presses record.

 _We can still get what we need,_ Rey realizes. And then reality crushes the spurt of hope: b _ut then how the hell are we going to get out of here? And there's no service! There's no point!  
_

"Maybe they don't know," pipes up a younger voice. Armitage Hux.

"Don't be stupid, Hux, they obviously know," snaps his father. "You're such a—"

"Quiet, Brendol, you are not helping," interrupts Snoke in almost a protective fashion. Rey's heart thumps. _Is this what he does? Toys with vulnerable kids like Ben and Armitage?_

"What would you suggest we do with them?" asks Brendol.

"We're out at sea. I sincerely doubt anyone knows where they are," Snoke answers. "We can—"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" asks the third voice, the unfamiliar one.

 _Is that the assassin?_ Rey strains to hear. The yacht rocks back and forth, gently, like it's trying to put her to sleep. Well, she won't give in. _We have to get out of here!_

"I'll do what I have to do, and we can dump them on the way back," the man continues.

"They'll probably assume they ran away," Snoke says. "What with their reputations and all. They're both out-of-control teenagers."

 _I am not out of control! I am in control of myself, not someone's toy. Not your toy. Neither is Ben_.

He clutches Rey's arm. "We have to fight them when they open the door—don't wait, just—"

"I know," she whispers back, her voice breaking. Her mind fills with the image of Ben pinned down on that plush carpet. _It'll be futile._

_We still have to try._

"I'm so sorry, Rey," Ben chokes out. "So—"

"It's not your fault," Rey manages.

"This whole situation is."

"He would have found some other way without you."

"Maybe, but I made it easier—" Ben sucks in his breath. "And my parents—my mother—"

 _They'll be in danger._ _But—_ "No," Rey says. "Finn and Poe—even if we die, they'll tell. They'll get help."

"They're not going to find us floating out at sea."

"I know that," Rey says, digging her nails into her palms even as she still, inexplicably, hopes. "But they'll make sure your parents are okay—you know they'll find out what happened. Poe's word matters here in this town, doesn't it?"

"I hope so."

It's a weird comfort, the thought that at least Obi-Wan, Finn, Poe, Luke and the rest will know they've been murdered, not wonder endlessly like Snoke thinks. _You underestimate us._

 _But I don't want to die._ Rey bows her head, tears sliding down her cheeks, hot and sticky. Ben leans his head against hers. His arms wrap around her shoulders.

"I wish you weren't here," Rey manages. "But—I'm glad you are."

She still can't see anything, but his fingers find her chin and tilt her face up. His breath lands warm against her cheeks. And his lips sink into hers, and she opens her mouth, holding his head, his soft curls and the ridges of his skull. _I'm so glad you're with me._

_And I'm so sorry._

_I love you._

* * *

Someone pounds on the door. Finn leaps to his feet, Poe beside him. Jyn marches over. "Baze and Chirrut."

"Let them in," Cassian calls from where he's assembling an impressive, if disturbing, collection of guns. Jyn's father, Galen, who's apparently visiting for the weekend, frowns as he watches.

"We're not alone," Baze grunts as he marches in, looking to Finn. "More people are coming. You okay?"

Finn shakes his head. Shame burns his face. Gorge rises in his throat.

"You were doing what you thought was right. Don't regret that. Regret not trusting us more," Chirrut advises.

"Good advice," Galen puts in. He nods at Finn.

_Our stupidity might have cost our friends their lives._

It's a burden Finn knows he can't bear. _We have to save them._

"I heard from Maz," Jyn announces, lifting up her phone. "She's going to meet us at the marina. Lando's procured a boat for us. Leia, Luke, Bail and someone named Padmé are on their way too."

"Padmé?" Finn blurts out. "Amidala?"

Poe gasps.

"Yeah," says Jyn. "You know her?"

"She's Luke and Leia's mother. Biological. Mother. Like Vader's ex-wife. Or girlfriend. They probably weren't married."

Jyn gapes at them. "How do you know this?"

"We have a lot of stories to tell," Finn whispers.

"Later," Jyn decrees.

"Let's go, then," Cassian barks, stuffing his gun in the waistband of his jeans. Jyn and Baze help themselves. Poe's mouth hangs open.

They jog to the marina, Finn's heart throbbing inside his chest the entire way. Salt air smells like poison. The humidity clings to him like anxiety. Even Poe's hand feels numb against his. _Rey and Ben._

_They could be dead._

_They could be drowning_ right now.

"I've called backup too," Cassian announces. "Might take awhile to get here."

"Backup?" Poe wonders.

"I work for the FBI," Cassian answers, and Finn feels as if he's been slapped. _You what?_

The salt reeks as they approach the marina. Finn hates trodding these familiar steps, the ones he and Poe ran, both crying and screaming, on their way to Jyn and Cassian's.

"I already got the keys, Cassian Andor," calls Maz Kanata. Her eyes sweep over Finn's as she adjusts her goggles.

"Hey," Bodhi calls, ducking out of the boat's cockpit.

_You too?_

_Everyone cares,_ Finn realizes, tearing up. His shoulders shake. _So many people care._

"They just need to hold on," Poe manages. "We're coming."

"Life jackets," Jyn barks, jabbing her fingers at Finn and Poe. "You're not drowning on my watch."

"Hello." Obi-Wan appears, handing over two puffy orange vests. Blotches mar his face, and his eyes are swollen and red.

 _She's your granddaughter._ "I'm so sorry," Finn ekes out. "I—"

"Don't blame yourself. It accomplishes nothing," comes another voice. Jyn shrieks.

 _"He's_ coming?" yelps Baze.

"He's the one with the idea about where they might be," Chirrut says. "Aren't you, Anakin Skywalker?"

Vader—Anakin—nods, bowing his head. Poe's eyes dart to Finn, and his mouth forms one word: _Padmé._

"Leia texted. They just parked," Lando reports. "And—who the hell are you?"

A tall, elderly man with dark skin and a purple polo shirt approaches, accompanied by a shorter, frog-like man.

"Yoda!" explodes Maz. "Why do you come now? I didn't even text you! And why do you never take my phone calls?"

"Huh?" Poe clutches Finn's hand.

"We received a phone call," Yoda answers, hobbling onto the boat. "Snoke. We know him well, know his activities."

"Yoda is an old friend," Maz explains. "Though he hasn't graced this town in over twenty years. And Mace Windu, too—it's been twice that."

 _How are they here? Who called_?

"We're here!" Leia barrels down the dock, leaping onto the boat. Luke and Bail follow, and together they help an older woman, a beautiful woman despite her age.

"She called us," Yoda adds, jerking his thumb towards Padmé Amidala.

Anakin clutches the rail.

"Hold on, we're taking off!" Cassian yells as he, Jyn, and Galen join Bodhi and Lando in the cockpit.

* * *

_You're here._

_After all this time._

_How?_

All these years Anakin assumed she hated him. Or she was dead.

But now she's standing across the deck, very much alive, her brown eyes just as sparkling as ever and her hair still perfectly curled, flanked by their two children.

And he's repulsive, and she has to know now, about Vader, about his second prison sentence, about what he did to the Organas, to their own daughter—and ignorance is not an excuse that will fly, not with Padmé.

He drops his gaze to his boots, sea spray flying up to his face. _What do I say?_

"You owe me," Padmé says, her voice shaking as she glares at Mace and Yoda. Anakin steals a glance. She's not looking at him. "You—"

"Padmé, I had no idea you wanted the children until your sister told me years laters," Mace interjects. "And then—"

"Fine," Padmé says, voice tight. "You're excused. But you—"

"I did not know either," Yoda cuts in. "I did know that Anakin still wanted to talk to you, but—"

"You listened to my parents and their bigoted classist bullshit," Padmé says. Leia looks to her in appreciation. "Can't you see that you were the problem?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan cuts in.

"I'm not even blaming you," Padmé snaps.

"I'm blaming myself." Obi-Wan wipes at his eyes, stepping in front of Anakin. "I should have—I should never have turned my back on Anakin, or you. I should have looked deeper into what I was told—I should have—"

"Well, you didn't," Padmé says, her voice catching. "And it's not something we can discuss right now. We're all here now. We need to save Ben, and Rey."

Luke sidles up to Anakin, putting his hand on his shoulder, and even though his son's a grown man, Anakin wants to embrace him, try to soothe the fear and confusion ripping his boy's face apart. _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry._

"Nothing's ruined," Luke says softly, so only Anakin can hear. He speaks as if he's trying to convince himself as well as Anakin. "We're still here. There's still time."

 _So many years lost_. But Anakin can't blame Yoda and Mace as much as he blames himself. And maybe Palpatine. He clears his throat. "I gave Lando and Bodhi the coordinates to an area where Palpatine used to take us—a coordinate away from the coast guard's normal patrol route. Snoke came, sometimes."

"How do they know each other?" Leia cuts in.

 _She's talking to me._ Anakin's heart lifts as the boat bounces on the waves. He can feel Padmé looking at him, too, and he can't meet her eyes. Finn wipes at his eyes, Poe wrapping his arms around his friend— _boyfriend?_ Anakin's not sure.

_We have to save them._

"Snoke was an old friend of Palpatine's," Anakin says. "I don't know exactly how they met. I was never told. But Snoke worked at the prison I went to when I was seventeen—there was a riot one day—our faces were burned in the same fire." He can still smell the smoke, feel his skin stretching, burning, peeling. A shudder tears through him. "I helped drag him out of the way." _I saved his life._

 _And now he's tried to take my daughter's, and might be taking my grandson's_.

"And?" prompts Leia, crossing her arms.

"You didn't tell any of us before?" demands Baze.

"I told Luke, and I thought Snoke had—changed his ways. After that, he was distant. Palpatine was his only friend while he worked as a reporter, away from this town—when he got a job here after Palpatine left, I assumed it was for nostalgia."

"I investigated him," Luke admits. "I found nothing to suggest he was involved in anything shady." His son's voice catches, as if guilt's gutting him too.

 _But it's not your fault_. "I think Snoke blames me," Anakin says. "For Palpatine's death. He was his friend—Snoke was even critical of Palpatine's corruption, but—he was his friend. After his burns, he must have lost so much." _Like Palpatine was my friend_. "And for his burns."

"What do you mean?" Leia demands.

"I _mean_ , I caused the riot. It was my fault. I threw a punch at the wrong guy—" _He blamed me all this time, didn't he?_ "He isn't going after you for any political reason, Leia. He's after you because you're—because he knows I—care about you." _It's me; it's always me._

"Why Leia? Why not Luke?" Padmé demands.

"Or Padmé?" Obi-Wan adds.

"I don't know," Anakin admits. "He would probably get around to you all." _And he didn't just want to kill Leia. He wanted to humiliate her, throw her career in jeopardy first. And he wanted me to know I was the cause._

_And I am._

"He's a shithead," Leia declares. "And we're sending him back to jail, as a prisoner this time." The determination ringing in his daughter's tone reminds him of someone else.

Anakin lifts his head, meeting Leia's eyes. "I promise you. I won't let your son die for my sins."

He half-expects her to snarl _that isn't entirely up to you,_ but she doesn't. Instead, she just nods.

And Padmé nods, too.

* * *

The door to the closet flies open, and Ben leaps to his feet, fist raised. He won't let them kill Rey. _No matter what happens to me._

Hux gasps, his hands flying in front of his face.

_He's alone._

_We can take him!_ Ben slams Hux up against the wall, pinning him with his elbow.

"Stop," Hux gags.

"No," Ben says. "Rey, find some rope or something. We have to gag him." _I can't believe this is something I have to do._ As frequently as he'd daydreamed about tearing out Hux's tongue, actually gagging a kid their age is—

"Cut it out," interrupts Phasma's voice. Rey whirls around, fist raised."We're trying to help you!"

"What?" Rey pauses.

"Don't listen, Rey, they're not—" Ben starts.

"Life rafts," Hux chokes out. "Up on—deck. We can help you—"

"Why?" Rey demands, advancing on Phasma, who may be taller but is surely not as quick or as resourceful as Rey. "Why would you do that?"

"Because," Phasma says. "I'm not a _murderer_."

"I want a career," Hux says. "Not dead people following me around. I'm not risking everything for—"

"So my parents don't count as people to you?" Ben snarls. _You almost killed my father!_

"Well, you do, as much as I hate you!"

Ben steps back, releasing him. Hux splutters.

"Ben, are you—" Rey starts.

"They're drinking—downstairs," Hux grinds out. "And meeting with the—you know."

"Assassin?" Rey hisses.

He rolls his eyes. "We've got to hurry."

Phasma glances over her shoulder. Ben's heart pounds as his mind whirls. _Hux is saving my life?_

_Does this mean I have to be grateful?_

Rey dashes after Hux as he heads for the stairs, and Ben curses as he runs along. Phasma heads down the stairs instead of up.

"She's keeping guard. In case they start to come up," Hux explains.

Fresh sea air hits Ben in the face. Hope spurts through him. They have to make it now. They have to live.

Rey sprints over to a small dinghy. "This?"

"Yeah," Hux says. He scrambles to the edge of the deck, frantically studying the ropes and pulleys. "I don't know how to—"

"Oh, move," snaps Rey, pushing him out of the way and reaching for it. "We—"

" _Armitage!"_

The shout cuts across the deck. Hux freezes. Ben whirls around as Rey keeps tugging at the ropes.

"Stop them!" screams Snoke, a feral sound, and then there's a gun, and it's pointing straight at Rey and Ben's screaming too, screaming Rey's name and _go, go, jump!_

She pulls herself on top of the rail just as someone throws their arms around Ben's waist. His chin strikes the deck. His cheek scrapes the wood, splinters digging into his cheek. His tongue feels as if he bit it in half. Blood pools under him, and he retches and spits more blood out.

And then he hears the splash.

And Snoke screaming. "How could you let her get away?"

_Rey._

_She's safe._

"She'll drown," snarls Brendol as more boots cross Ben's vision and a gun cocks. "Leave her. If they find the body with bullets in her, there'll be more questions."

"This far out," says a voice Ben can only assume belongs to the assassin. "She'll be fish food."

"She'll drown," Snoke says. "No need to worry about it."

And all Ben can think is: _you don't know Rey._


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Star Wars Day! May the Fourth be with you!

Salt water shoots up her nose, burning.

Her eyes sting like sandpaper's rubbing them. Her hands flail, grasping for the surface. It's not there. It's not _there. Where—_

_Help me!_

This time, Ben isn't coming in after her. Rey's lungs feel as if they're about to burst, balloons expanding, exploding—she has to open her mouth—she has to gulp— _you'll drown_ — _survive,_ survive _, dammit, your goal has always been to make it to another day!_

Reey kicks at the water, clawing her way through. Her fingers break.

 _It's there!_ Rey's lips break apart and salt spills in. Her head surges up and she gags, hacking and spitting into the ocean. _Kick! Stay afloat!_

She peers around, gasping as she wipes at her face. No Ben. A flashlight shines out from the yacht.

_Swim!_

_Where to?_

_You'll never make it._

_Don't cry; you can't cry now_. Ben's okay. He has to be. Rey swims, kicking and pulling the water. But she has no idea which direction land is in. For all she knows, she could be swimming out to sea.

_It's hopeless._

Now tears leak from her eyes. Rey spits again. It's too dark to see any strip of land—and what could be under her? Sharks? The thought stabs down her spine. Rey yanks her legs up in fear.

_What am I going to do?_

_Help me,_ she prays, prays to the water, the sky, to a force she doesn't know, to anyone, anyone at all who will listen. _Help Ben_.

And she kicks out again, dragging herself further.

_Would it be better to stay by the yacht? Tail it?_

_Yeah, like you'll be able to keep up when it starts steaming ahead again._

Rey's left calf seizes, spasming in pain. She lets out a cry, clamping her hand over her mouth. Flexing her foot doesn't work. _Stop! Stop! Stop!_

The water starts to chill. Rey's teeth chatter as she waits, grimacing in pain, for the cramp to vanish. It fades, but the moment she tries to swim again, it gnaws at her again. And now her other leg, too— _help me!_

Rey swims, even with her legs gripped in agony. She chokes on water. She hates salt and no one should ever use it to season food ever again. She hates Snoke. She hates Brendol Hux. She loves Ben. She loves Obi-Wan—and they both love her. She has Finn, and Poe, and Leia.

_I don't want to die here._

The pain explodes in her legs, grabbing her hip now, too. A sharp yell shoots from her mouth, but there's no one—to hear it—water soaks her face— _get your head up_ —

She squints. _Am I hallucinating?_

On the horizon, she sees light.

* * *

"That's got to be them," Anakin breathes.

"Get ready," Cassian orders, handing Leia a gun. Finn gulps, looking to Poe.

"You two are staying here, _inside_ ," Jyn orders.

"No, we aren't!" Poe argues. "These are our friends and—"

"And your parents will kill all of us if anything happens to you," Bodhi calls from the cockpit.

"True story," Luke affirms. Finn's heart sinks.

"Backup's still ten minutes out," Cassian announces.

"Don't be sad," Chirrut says to Finn, his hand grasping Finn's shoulder. "You'll have your whole adult life to dive into action. For now, though, it's wiser to wait. That's something no teenager ever wants to hear, though."

Finn snorts, but Chirrut's right. He doesn't want to hear it. Not when Rey and Ben could be _dying_.

He heads over to the rail, peering at the light of the yacht as it grows closer and closer. Something splashes. Something yells.

_Huh?_

Finn lifts himself up onto the rail, taking out his phone. _Dammit, this flashlight's pathetic!_

"What are you doing, Finn?" demands Obi-Wan. "Get inside the—"

"Someone's out there!" Finn bellows. _"Rey!"_ He can hear her yelling—he's not sure what she's yelling, but—

"Move!" Luke shoves Finn aside and shines a far more powerful flashlight. Rey's arms wave wildly.

" _Rey!"_ Obi-Wan screams.

"Hold on!" shouts Leia.

Poe races to the rail, gaping. "Where's Ben?"

Finn shakes his head. It feels like there's a rock in his stomach.

Luke scrambles to find a life preserver, throwing it into the water. Jyn pulls out her gun, cocking it.

_This is really happening._

_She's alive_. Finn grips the rail. Poe grips Finn's shoulders.

They haul Rey into the deck. She coughs, doubling over and gagging up water. Her eyes are swollen red and streaming.

"Rey!" Obi-Wan grabs her first, holding her, sopping wet, against himself. Tears run down his face. "I thought—don't you ever—I thought—I thought we'd lost you. I—"

Rey shakes her head.

"You're okay!" Finn can't contain himself and throws his arms around her. She and Poe are the first people who ever stood up for him. She's his friend, and he almost had to say goodbye.

Rey clutches him back. When she pulls away, she's gasping. "Ben—they're going to—"

"To what?" Leia demands.

"They caught us! They're going to kill him—he helped me jump overboard—we were trying to escape; Hux and Phasma were trying to help us escape—"

 _What?_ Finn knew Phasma was a bad egg, but he never pictured her involved in this shitshow.

"We have to save him!" Rey cries out, but when her eyes skitter away from Finn's, he knows.

 _It's quite possibly already too late._ Poe sucks in his breath.

"We have to try," Rey says again, voice wobbling. Leia's hand hovers over her mouth, and Padmé clutches Luke's shoulder.

"He's okay," Anakin cuts in, voice rough. "He has to be."

"Anakin?" Rey gapes up at him, and then she takes in everyone around her. "You're—you're all here?"

"We all came for you," Jyn says, her father behind her.

Maz nods as she parts from Yoda and Mace. Rey shakes her head. "Who even are you?" She's addressing Yoda, and Mace, and Galen, and Padmé. Her head keeps turning as she takes in faces she doesn't know.

"People who are invested in you regardless of whether you know it," Chirrut remarks.

Rey shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "Let's get Ben."

* * *

"You have two options, Snoke." Cassian's voice blazes through a bullhorn. "We know you have an assassin on board. We know _everything_. We know you have a hostage. The FBI is on their way. You can surrender now or later, but you aren't getting out of this one. We'll have you surrounded from the air and from the water. You can try to run, but we're faster. So you can either send Ben over in a lifeboat and then surrender, or you can drag this out and try to negotiate, but I assure you, you won't get very much."

The cockpit phone rings. Rey watches as Bodhi scrambles to answer it. "Um, hello?"

"Tell that Andor," snarls Snoke's voice. "That I will not hesitate to kill the boy and then kill—"

"You won't kill yourself," shouts Anakin. "You value your own life too much."

"Is that who I think it is?" Snoke sounds shocked. Obi-Wan's arm tightens around Rey's shoulders.

"Yes," Anakin says.

"Vader."

"Anakin."

"You're trapped, Snoke," Luke says. "You don't have any more cards to play."

"You're going to lose," Jyn adds.

"Oh, I think I have one more," Snoke purrs. Rey notices Cassian frantically tapping into a phone that apparently has service out here. Must be some FBI shit.

"No games," Luke snaps. "We want to hear from Ben. Let us know that he's—"

"How's Obi-Wan doing? Hasn't he realized his granddaughter's drowned yet?"

"I'm alive and well, thanks for asking!" Rey snarls.

"We rescued her in time," Obi-Wan says, anger serrating the edge of his voice. Rey's never heard him speak like this before. A chill runs through her.

Finn pretends to flip Snoke off. Rey manages a weak smile as Poe concentrates, his brow furrowed.

"Let me talk to my son, Snoke," Leia interrupts.

"Going to offer to trade yourself for him or something so noble? The FBI won't let you."

"I'm still offering."

Rey flinches. Luke glares at his sister, and Cassian claps his hand to his forehead. Jyn grabs the phone from her husband and starts tapping.

"Really," Snoke says, and Rey's hopes nosedive. Panicked, she glances at Finn and Poe. Finn cringes and Poe turns gray. "Would you say that if you knew he was the one who leaked the information? If you knew he helped write that article?"

* * *

Brendol Hux's fist grips Ben's hair. He bites down on his lip, shame riddling him helpless. He leans against the deck inside, wishing—still wishing—to live. He should want to die, but he doesn't.

_Why can't I let go?_

Now they know. Now everybody knows.

"He's Kylo Ren," Snoke adds.

_The monster._

"He's responsible for—"

"Shut the hell up!" Anakin bellows. Ben's throat twitches. His chest heaves as he tries to force his sobs down.

 _Rey's okay._ She's alive, and she doesn't hate him. Ben tries to focus on that, on her. Still— _Mom, I'm sorry!_

"Let him talk," Luke demands.

"I don't know if he wants to."

"Let him talk or I will see to it that—" Jyn starts.

"You're not even an agent, Erso. You're just a—"

"Jyn's not _just a_ anything," Cassian's voice cuts in.

"Exactly," comes a male voice Ben doesn't recognize.

"Exactly," Jyn echoes.

"Let us talk to the kid," pleads Kaytoo.

"He is trying to draw the situation out," says an old, gravelly voice. "Well, I know him."

Snoke glares at Brendol Hux. "Yoda?" he hisses.

"Snoke, I swear to God if you don't—" A female voice, sweet and lilting, but dangerous.

"You can't be," Snoke whispers.

"Be what? Be here? I assure you that I am, Snoke, and if you hurt my grandson in any way you'll have three grandparents, two parents, an uncle and a hoard of friends to answer to, you good-for-nothing scoundrel."

_Grandmother?_

_Padmé Amidala?_

"Where is my son?" Mom screams.

_You care? Still?_

Brendol yanks Ben up by the hair, shoving him closer to the receiver. "Talk!"

_What do I say?_

A boot lands in his ribs. Ben grunts.

"Ben!"

"Mom?" Ben croaks, because it's the only word he wants to say. A zillion images flash in front of his eyes: the times Mom would rub his back, hold him close after a nightmare when he was little, the time Dad and Chewie helped him learn how to climb trees, the times his parents fought and he didn't know who to comfort. "Mom—I'm—I'm so sorry—I didn't—I wasn't—I'm so—please, Mom, _help!"_

"That's enough!" Snoke elbows him in the face. Ben's nose spurts blood.

"I will, Snoke, so help me, take me instead!" Mom shouts.

 _No!_ Ben shakes his head.

"You, Leia Organa," Snoke breaths, his breath heavy, his face white and beaded with swear. "Are the biggest fool—"

"Fool?" Rey shouts. Ben's neck snaps up at her voice. "Are you stupid? You've tried to, what, do everything you can to break us down and break us apart? First Anakin and Padmé, and Luke and Leia, and now Ben? What is your problem?"

"Shut up, you sixteen-year-old orphan."

"You've completely failed!" Rey yells. "We're all still here, if you didn't notice. We're all working together to stop _you_! I have my grandfather. Ben has his family—we're all still here, forgiving each other and loving each other, and you—you're pathetic and alone, and all you care about is tearing down other people's relationships without bothering to build one of your own! You're a _coward."_

 _Well then._ Ben blinks. Snoke gapes at the receiver. Brendol's hold on Ben loosens.

 _Now_! Ben snaps into action, kicking Brendol's legs out from under him. There's a thud as he smacks into the deck, and Ben runs.

"Get back here!" Snoke screams, and a shot echoes. Ben's side explodes in pain, but he keeps going—towards the rail—they're out there, his mother still loves him, they'll _save_ him—

More gunfire echoes, but from above. On instinct, Ben plummets to the deck.

"Don't move!"

His side throbs. _The rail—_ Ben inches towards it, but the moment he goes to stand up he realizes he can barely walk.

"Get on the deck!" bellows an unfamiliar voice. Ben cranes his neck.

Helicopters.


	29. Chapter 29

"He'll live. The bullet went through and came out cleanly," reports Dr. Kalonia.

Leia's breath whooshes out of her. She clutches Luke's arm.

"Thank God," grunts Chewie. "I'll go tell Han."

Leia nods. Luke watches as Chewie leaves the waiting room. Snoke, too, is in surgery. Brendol Hux was apprehended unarmed, and the agents found Armitage and Phasma huddled behind a couch inside of the yacht. _Poor kids._

"Did you tell Han about what Snoke said?" Luke ventures.

Leia shakes her head. "Not yet."

"Rey says it's true," Luke reports. "She and Finn and Poe."

"I know." Leia grips her head.

"Snoke's manipulative as hell," Dad offers, hesitant as if he's not sure whether Leia wants him to speak up or disappear entirely. "He—"

"I _know_ ," Leia shoots back, covering her face and leaning forward. "I just—I let him get to Ben."

"You're not blaming yourself," Luke says, shocked. Padmé covers her mouth.

"I knew he was in pain, Luke, Han and I both knew, but we thought—we kept dismissing it as ordinary teenage stuff—we thought it'd work itself out—we should have been there for him more. He resented us, we both knew it, and we should have—"

"Leia," Luke interrupts, grasping his sister by her shoulders. Bail Organa watches with tears in his eyes. "Ben's okay. There's tomorrow. There's another chance. It's not too late."

She leans her forehead against his shoulder, wrapping her arm around him. Luke catches sight of Padmé and Dad both smiling slightly.

"It's good to know we didn't lose everything," Padmé offers in explanation. "I'm glad—so happy—to see that you two are close."

"Despite it all," Bail comments, leaning against the wall.

"I forgive you, you know," Padmé says. "It was not your fault. Mace and Yoda—well, they're staying with Obi-Wan for the time being. I'm sure we'll talk."

 _You can't magically fix anything. There's no wand here_. All these years—still different than they might have, maybe _should_ have, been. _Not always for the worse, either,_ Luke decides as Bail reaches to caress his daughter's shoulder.

"I'm forcing him into therapy," Leia declares.

"Good idea," Luke affirms.

"Leia," Bail says. "I'm going to get some coffee. Luke, would you—"

"Yes," Luke says immediately, rising. "See you soon. I'll get you an iced."

Leia nods, and Luke and Bail leave Leia with her birth parents.

"Can't force them to talk," Bail observes. "But I don't have to be in the way, either."

"I don't think Leia sees you as being in the way."

Bail smiles. "Of course she doesn't. But—Anakin's probably better suited to give advice on Ben, and she knows it."

Luke shrugs. "Probably." _His own nephew._

Ben's so young, even if he doesn't see it that way.

_Why didn't we notice?_

_Well, we've noticed now._

* * *

"So," Leia begins, partially wanting to thank Luke and her father, partially wanting to kick them out the waiting room's glass windows. _Padmé's here_ , she reminds herself. She likes the woman.

And, whether she likes Anakin or not, he helped. She knows he did, and she's grateful for it. "Thank you."

Anakin shakes his head. "I'm—sorry, Leia." His shoulders slump, because it's just words, in the end, and he has nothing more to give.

None of them do. Maybe words have to count, sometimes.

Leia nods, blinking back tears. Her husband. Her son. It's so much, so overwhelming. It tears at her— _but they're still here_. "What would you recommend we do?"

"Me?" Anakin blinks.

"Judging from your history," Padmé says. "You might be best to offer a perspective into what Ben's been thinking."

Anakin heaves a sigh. "I don't know. Just—listen to him. But don't absolve him."

She wishes she could.

She wishes she could travel back in time, wrap her arms around her baby boy, and never let him go, protect him from the complicated shards of the world and of all these consequences that seem to ripple on and on and on.

But Han lives. So does Ben, and so does she. The assassin they caught—Boba Fett, once a police officer as well—is under heavy guard in the hospital after undergoing surgery for a bullet wound to the thigh.

"I love him," Leia says. "I'd do anything for him."

"I know," says Padmé.

Leia shudders as she imagines not knowing who or where or how your children are. _She's been through hell_.

Leia embraces her birth mother. Padmé gasps, and then hugs her too. "I'm sure Ben will want to meet you," she says. "We'll—when everyone is out of the hospital, we'll have you for dinner—I'd like to—"

Padmé nods, her eyes shining. "And—anything you need, Leia, while they're here—I'd help. If you'd prefer to be left alone, that's a need too, and don't hesitate to voice it."

Anakin stares at her in admiration. Something softens in Leia's heart. "Thank you." She turns to Anakin. "And you're—we'd like to have you for dinner, too. Or I would. I'll make sure Han doesn't get Threepio to poison your food."

Anakin gapes at her.

"I know—I haven't really been able to forgive you," Leia says, the words scraping her throat, her chest, as she speaks. _Why not?_

Because he did something terrible. And because Leia's expectations of people have always been high, and because, maybe, somewhere, she's always wondered why he didn't look harder for her, why he gave her up, even though she's glad he did.

"You did nothing wrong," Anakin manages. "I don't blame you at all."

_You really don't._

Leia holds out her hand, and, with a smile blooming on his scarred lips, her father smiles.

* * *

"I hope Ben will be all right," Padmé says as Leia disappears with the doctor. He's awake, or so they claim.

Anakin nods, picking at the loose thread on his shirt. "He's a good kid."

"You know him?"

Anakin offers her a weak smile "I just met him. She—wanted to protect her son from me. Because of—"

"Vader," Padmé supplies. "I know."

 _Oh_. Anakin slouches.

"They told me you didn't want me anymore," Padmé says. "I still—I always—and after they took our children, I thought—I couldn't bring myself to contact you. I always hoped, though. And prayed. Vader wasn't you."

"Vader _is_ me," Anakin admits. "A part of me. So is the Anakin you knew." He shifts, his back aching.

Padmé nods.

"I heard you worked for a nonprofit."

She nods again.

"Are you married?"

Padmé casts him a strange look. "No."

 _Don't you dare get your hopes up, Anakin_. _We've both changed. We're decades and decades older._

"Do you want to get coffee?" Padmé asks. "When this is all over? Or whatever it is you're supposed to say when you ask someone out these days?"

Anakin whirls to gape at her. "You're asking me out?"

"You asked me out the first time. I figured it was my turn. Unless you're—"

"No." Anakin shakes his head. "I'm not." His fingers trace his chin, feeling the pits and ridges of his scars. "Padmé—there are things I've done that haven't been widely reported—and—"

"So we have a lot to catch up on." She smiles, and oh God, it's the same smile—older and wiser, but still free and beautiful. Her whole face lights up.

 _She looks prettier now than she did when we were sixteen_.

"You sure you want to go on a date with this?" Anakin has to ask, jerking his hand towards his face. _The monster._

Padmé shakes her head. "I see a man who went through hell and still clawed his way to heaven. Or maybe Luke pulled you kicking and screaming. I don't know."

"A little bit of Luke," Anakin confesses. "A fair amount of kicking and screaming."

"No matter what Luke or anyone did, you made your own choices. There's good in you," Padmé says. "I always knew it. Your loved ones just maybe helped you remember it."

* * *

" _Hold still."_

 _All he wanted to ask is where his mom is, but Ben gritted his teeth and stayed silent_ _as they loaded him onto a medical helicopter._

But the sounds of the chopper sound higher-pitched now. No, they're beeps. _I'm in the hospital._ His hands twitch. His side aches and his brain feels slow.

"Leia, I think he's waking up."

 _Dad?_ Ben cracks his eyes open. White morning light pours in through the window, landing on his legs, which are covered with a knit blanket.

"Hey, kid," he says, face cracking into a smile. His gray hair seems mussed, and he's still in a hospital gown too, sitting in a wheelchair.

_Oh my God._

_Snoke. Rey_ —Ben flinches. _They know; he told them; they know!_

"Calm down, Ben, it's all right!" Mom cries out. "It's all right." Her hands catch his shoulders. "Everyone's okay. Everything's okay."

Tears leak out of Ben's eyes. _Damn medication_. He shakes his head. "The—"

"Ben, we don't have to do this now," Mom urges, her hand combing through his hair. "It's okay."

" _I'm_ okay, kid. You must have just wanted a bullet wound to match me, huh?"

Ben narrows his eyes. "Snoke—"

"Is going away for a long, long time. As is his assassin buddy," Mom cuts in. "They're not going to hurt us again, Ben."

"I'm so sorry," Ben croaks out. "I—I didn't know—I really didn't."

Dad sighs. His hand grasps Ben's.

"I just—I wanted to—I don't know what I was thinking," Ben admits. His thoughts feel fragile, as if they're falling apart the moment his tongue tries to speak. "I was—mad—I found out about my grandfather and I—"

"Ben," Dad interrupts. "It's okay."

He shakes his head. "It's not!"

"Calm down," Mom insists. "Take a deep breath, Ben. You'll be okay. We're here."

Those last two words burrow down in Ben's stomach. He cringes. "Do you hate me?"

"No," Dad says. "No matter what, we love you."

"I know we haven't been the best at showing it," Mom chokes out, her fingers still running across his forehead.

 _You didn't betray me_. _Not like I did to you_.

"We're not holding it against you, kid," Dad says. "You're our son for better or for worse. Hell, we _forgive_ you."

"Why?" It's the only question in his mind.

"Because," Mom says. "We love you."

* * *

"I can't go through that again," Obi-Wan moans. The smell of coffee permeates the house. Rey pads to the living room, where Yoda and Mace Windu sit on the couch, all drinking coffee. Her heart sinks.

"Rey!" He springs to his feet.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I felt—I thought—"

"You don't have to explain," Obi-Wan cuts in, putting his hand on her shoulder. "You have little reason to trust me, or any adults. None of you really do except Poe, and from what I hear, he's grounded."

Rey snorts. "He is." His parents are also proud of him.

"He does admire your bravery," adds Mace. "Or so he said."

_Really?_

Obi-Wan smiles at her as he fills a mug with coffee. "I do. I just hope you'll learn to trust us, too. Then again, you do remind me of Luke."

Rey laughs.

"Ben is going to be okay," Yoda adds.

"I know. He texted me." Okay in more ways than one, Rey suspects.

_There are people who love each other that much._

"Leia's hosting another barbecue for us all—before you leave," Obi-Wan tells Yoda and Mace. "Next week. Both Han and Ben will be out of the hospital then."

"Can I go see him?" Rey asks.

Obi-Wan gives her a nod. "Of course."

* * *

"I'm glad you and my nephew have gotten so close," Luke says as he drives Rey, Finn, and even a grounded Poe out on parole, to the hospital.

"We relate," Rey says.

"Hm?"

"We both felt unwanted."

Poe grips Finn's hand.

Luke sighs.

"You know you're not unwanted, right?" Poe hisses in Finn's ear as they ride in the backseat.

"Sometimes," he mutters back. Maybe more so than not these days. Maz didn't even scold him. She said she _understood_ , and while he was still foolish, she didn't condemn him.

"You know," Poe begins. "Have Baze and Chirrut contacted you yet today?"

"I haven't checked my email, but they haven't called or texted."

"Oh." Poe reddens.

"What?" Finn presses.

"They want to know if you want to work for them next summer. I heard Baze telling Dad. Maz is all set for you to live with her again. You know, if you want the job."

"Seriously?" Finn gapes.

"That's awesome!" Rey shrieks.

"It's true," Luke confirms, slowing for a red light. "Though they were planning on telling you at the barbecue."

"Oops," Poe says.

Finn can't keep his grin off his face. "I'll pretend I don't know." Thought he's not sure how successful he'll be at that.

"We all have to text each other, right?" Rey asks. "During the school year? Ooh, and you guys should come visit! Obi-Wan has a couch."

"I have a house," Poe points out. "And yes, I'd like to." He looks to Finn, hand covering his.

 _Are we going to keep doing this?_ Finn nods. "I'd like to, too." And he's saved most of his earnings—he can afford a bus ticket.

And with Poe, he wants to try. There are no guarantees, he knows that. But Poe's the first person who made him feel like he belonged, and Poe's belief in him—it's changed Finn. For the better.

_We'll give it all we've got._

* * *

"So glad you're home," Anakin says, rubbing Ben's shoulder. His side still throbs, but he's back home—and for some reason, his mother wants to hold a barbecue. At least this time, Finn can make it, and Dad's here too—and he doesn't hate Ben.

In fact, he's taking some time off of work. "Recovery," Dad groused, but Ben knows.

_He wants to spend time with me._

He doesn't deserve it, but he's so grateful.

Padmé laces her hand through Anakin's, and Ben can only grin. They head off to talk to Jyn and Cassian, who, along with Mom, are trying to arrange a game of badminton against Luke, Baze, and Bodhi. "Your plan worked, Rey," he hisses.

"I mean, I didn't necessarily count on them getting back together," Rey says around a mouthful of chips and guacamole. "But I'm pretty happy they are."

"She's talking about moving here," Ben adds.

"Seriously?"

"They still love each other," Finn says, shaking his head. "After so many years. Amazing."

Poe winks, leaning his head on Finn's shoulder.

"Hey, Ben."

He looks up to see Hux standing there, Phasma by his side. Both of them bow their heads. "Hey."

"Thanks for—your help," Rey says carefully.

Hux nods. "I'm—glad you guys are okay."

Ben's silent. He read the newspapers. Brendol Hux, along with Snoke and Boba Fett, are looking at decades in prison.

"Where are you staying?" Poe questions.

"With her family for now," Hux says, Jerking his thumb. "Next week I'm going—well. Wherever. You know."

 _Wherever the state decides_.

"It's not easy," Finn says carefully. "But it's not the end of the world, either. Things worked out for me." He sits between Rey and Poe on the grass, a hamburger on his plate.

Hux manages a smile. "Thanks."

"You know," Rey adds. "If you need someone to talk to, you _can_ call me."

Ben's eyebrows shoot up.

"I know foster care," she adds, and Hux nods.

"You should talk to Jyn Erso," Finn says. "See what she can do for you during the summers. If you asked, I don't think she'd turn you down."

"Even if he's dating me?" asks Phasma with a snort.

"We know Snoke ran those booths," Poe jumps in.

She nods. "Actually, Obi-Wan's taken them over. Says he wants to be closer to Lor San Tekka and it's a fun job for retirement."

"How come you didn't tell me?" Ben yelps, turning to Rey.

Her jaw hangs open. "I had no idea."

"He said he'd keep me on if I promised to behave honestly," Phasma adds. "So I can finish school too, and still be the youngest manager." She grins.

"Good for you," Ben says, and means it.

They head off, and Rey turns to Ben. "You're going to visit during the year, right?"

He nods. "Mom and Dad seem to think it's a good idea for me to spend more time with both Luke and Anakin. Grandfather agrees." He watches as Bail laughs with Jyn's father, both men holding bottles of beer. The sun sets behind them, dribbling orange and gold onto the ocean.

"I'm proud of you," Poe tells Finn. "Actually, I'm, like, in awe of you. I still want to kick sand at them."

Finn snickers, and leans over to kiss Poe.

Rey turns to Ben. "We're going to have to group text each other. A lot."

He nods.

"And Skype," she adds. "And you'll visit." Her voice trembles.

"You'll make friends in school. I know you will," he tries to reassure her. He might be going to a new school, too. Mom and Dad are still discussing. Padmé apparently has some recommendations.

"But you're still my boyfriend," Rey teases, flicking his hair off his forehead.

Ben's face flushes. _Boyfriend_. She's never said that before.

He likes it.

He leans over to kiss her, lips folding over hers. His hands dig through her soft hair, and she presses herself against him.

"Oh, my dear!" squeaks Threepio. "Leia! Obi-Wan! Your—"

"Nah, it's okay," Han says. "Let them enjoy it."

"Wait, they're still dating?" Obi-Wan sounds scandalized and Ben pulls away from Rey. His stomach drops.

"Oops. Sorry," Rey says. "I should have told—"

"No," Obi-wan cuts in, a smile growing on his face. "There are some things you can please keep to yourself."

Ben coughs.

But Obi-Wan's still grinning. "I'm happy for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who read this story! May the Force be with you. :D

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This story will be updated Tuesdays and Thursdays. Going forward, it will contain extensive, chapter-long flashbacks (which will be clearly noted).


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